


Dad's Still Heere

by pastelsuperhero



Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz
Genre: Shenanigans, familial bondings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-21
Updated: 2017-08-14
Packaged: 2018-11-17 03:42:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 35,975
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11267235
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pastelsuperhero/pseuds/pastelsuperhero
Summary: What could possibly happen when eight kids and one Dad share a house?((This is follow-up one-shots from my fanfic "Dad's Heere", but I don't really think you'd have to read it if you didn't want to))





	1. Fist Fight!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shoutout to DancingDemon! They "recommended" the entire plot in the comments, again, after I'd just finished it! Haha, here's to you friend! You inspired an insult thrown somewhere in this chapter ;)

Rich had never realized how few showtunes he knew.

 

He tried desperately to think of more, as the time felt like it was passing the slowest it ever had. He started whistling Andy Griffith for the third time, thinking back to see if he could remember the way any of the ones Mr. Heere would whistle went. When he couldn’t, he started drumming his hands at his sides. He _really_ hated waiting.

 

He wondered if the others hated waiting as much as he did, and if so, what they all might be doing while they were waiting on him. Of course, they did have each other to talk to.

 

He started tapping his foot as well, making out a beat he’d heard on the radio in Michael’s cruiser one recent morning.

 

_Come on._

 

He wondered if his ~~friends~~ family knew where he was right now, or why they were all waiting on him. He hoped Jake wouldn’t get too worried if he had to keep this up much longer.

 

_Come. On._

 

Truth be told, he didn’t want them to know. He’d very much rather do this on his own, and then they’d all be done with it. Besides, he knew he _could_.

 

_Come on, already!_

He started imagining all the cool things he could say to her, or the cool moves he could pull if they started throwing punches… Okay, if _he_ started throwing punches. But, hey, he was only going to throw the first punch _if_ they didn’t agree to leave everyone alone. The last time, he’d found Jenna crying in the boy’s bathroom because “she always finds me in ours”, and he swore to himself that that would be the absolute end of it.

 

With all the energy he was holding in while standing there, he almost hoped he got to start a fight.

 

“And then she got all up in my face about it!” Madeline’s nasally voice came through the doors, followed by a group of people Rich assumed were just hanging off of her for popularity’s sake, as he’d never seen any of them with her before. “Like I cared!”

 

Rich grinned to himself and moved to stand directly in their path.

 

“Oh, look, it’s the school arsonist!” Madeline laughed, looking around at the others purposely when they didn’t laugh along with her.

 

“Hi, Mads.” Rich spoke calmly, letting his smile come across as potentially dangerous.

 

“What do you _want_ , lisp?” Madeline cackled again, and Rich continued to smile, the adrenaline and anger bubbling up inside him.

 

“Leave my family alone.” He said simply, crossing his arms and staring her down.

 

“Your family, Richard? Puh-lease. They’re just your friends. All of you being taken in by some old fart doesn’t make you shit.” She got closer to his face, and Rich kept holding it down. “Although, I guess freaks take to freaks easy.” She snarked. “What’re you gonna do about it if I don’t?” She bat her eyelashes at him, almost daring him to do something.

 

He would take that dare.

 

Rich shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly, and told her, “Can’t say I didn’t warn you.”

 

Before _decking her_.

 

Chaos erupted. Half the surrounding group fled, the other half started beefing up to Rich themselves, a couple of the guys starting to throw their own punches as Madeline picked herself up off the ground and started cheering for them to “Kick his ass!” from the sideline.

 

Just as Rich ducked under one of their incoming swings, he felt a _woosh_ of air above him, and saw the guy go down like a sack of bricks.

 

“Anyone else want to lay their hands on my boyfriend?” Jake asked, smirking back at Rich when he met his eyes.

 

Even with the pause, the fight picked back up again, as one of the others stepped up and started swinging at Jake to answer his question.

 

“Oh, shit! Fist fight!” Michael yelled in the background, and Rich heard six pairs of footsteps running to join them.

 

Rich couldn’t help but laugh – it didn’t look like these goons had ever fought with anyone in their lives. If they had, they’d lost, because they were surely losing now.

 

Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw Chloe approach Madeline with fury. “Yo, Madeline!” She yelled for her attention, before open-palmed slapping her across the face.

 

“Nice!” Rich called, throwing a thumbs up her way while throwing a kick at whoever he was fighting now.

 

Madeline wiped her face of spit with her sleeve, and screeched, “You’ll pay for that, bitch!”

 

“Oh, I’ve been waiting for this.” Chloe laughed. “Bring it, you fucking _macaroon_!”

 

Suddenly, Rich was pulled away from an incoming fist. “Watch out!” Jake shouted at him.

 

“Sorry!” He apologized, and he and Jake were suddenly back to back, finally letting him see where Michael and Jeremy were in this fiasco.

 

 _Huh. Guess I didn’t need to be worried about them_.

 

Michael was using obvious straight-from-video-game fighting combos, but they were working out for him. He delivered an impressive uppercut to one guy before pushing another off him and towards Jeremy.

 

And Jeremy? Wow. Rich needed to show him how to _really_ fight, because he was remarkably spry and could throw a mean left hook, if he took the chance. Rich didn’t really know what brought it out in him (because that was _not_ how he fought at that dreaded play, from what had been shared with him about it), but whatever it was, he was thankful.

 

He and Jake rotated positions, his view of Jeremy and Michael being replaced with Chloe and Madeline again, but this time, the other girls were added. Madeline was trying to fight Chloe, Brooke, and Christine by herself, which looked more like she was getting the snot kicked out of her while being pushed between three different girls and Jenna recording it all.

 

“Apologize!” Christine demanded, getting Madeline into a sloppy headlock.

 

“Fuck you, wannabe Broadway bitch!” Madeline screeched at her.

 

Christine’s face went from shocked to fuming as she let go of Madeline to push her off to Brooke.

 

Before Rich knew it, a security guard was grabbing him. As he was being pulled away, he could stand still and see everyone else suffering the same fate, except for Chloe and Madeline, who’d fallen to the ground. They rolled around, pulling each other’s hair and clawing at each other. When they finally stopped rolling, Chloe was on top, still madly throwing her claws while Madeline covered her face.

 

“Don’t fuck with us again, baguette bitch!” Chloe spit out.

 

“Alright, alright, I give! I’ll leave you alone!” Madeline caved, her voice out of breath and almost whimpering.

 

Chloe allowed a guard to haul her up to her feet, and she brushed off the dirt from her shirt. “Good.” She said simply. When another guard pulled Madeline up as well, she added, “Oh, that goes for everyone in this school, _Mads._ ”

 

“Whatever.” Madeline shot back, trying (and failing) to sound like she didn’t care.

 

As they were all being marched to the front office, Jeremy looked around and spoke up. “Hey, Madeline, are you okay?” He asked.

“Excuse me?” Madeline snapped, sounding exhausted.

 

“Well, you totally deserved that.” Michael let out a small laugh. “But, nothing’s broken or anything, right?” He looked her over from where he walked with his appointed guard.

 

Madeline was silent for a moment. She refused to meet any of their eyes, but answered, “I’m fine.” Without any malice behind it.

 

“Good.” Jenna spoke up, offering her a tiny smile.

 

-

 

Mr. Heere parked his car and pinched the bridge of his nose, only dreading what could have happened for the school to call him from work to pick up _all eight_ of his kids.

 

They wouldn’t tell him over the phone, which only made him more worried.

 

He nervously found his way to the front of the school, trying to figure out who he should talk to. Jeremy had never gotten into any kind of trouble before, so it wasn’t like he’d ever seen this part of the school at all.

 

“Um, excuse me,” He asked one of the two ladies sitting at the desk. “My name is David Heere. I got called down for my kids?”

 

“Oh, Mr. Heere!” The woman rose and walked around to shake his hand. “My name is Mrs. Walker, I’ll show you to the principal’s office.” She led him down the hall, striking up a conversation with him as they passed a few teachers. “So, if you don’t mind my asking, what could have possibly happened for so many kids to change their contact information to you? And in such a short amount of time?”

 

Mr. Heere ran his hand over his head as they reached the door, “I, uh, I adopted them.”

 

“Adopted them? My, what happed to their own parents?” She inquired, her glasses slipping down the slope of her nose until her eyes peered over them.

 

Mr. Heere held in a comment about nosiness.

 

“Well, that’s not my story to tell.” He offered and shrugged his shoulders. “Thank you for showing me to the door.” He ignored what she took a breath to say and went ahead inside the office.

 

“Ah, Mr. Heere, I presume?” The principal asked him.

 

“Yes, that’s me.” Mr. Heere gave a small laugh and eyed over his kids. Rich gave him a small wave, smiling through a split lip. “My god, what did you kids do?”

 

“Your kids started a fist fight, on school grounds, with Miss Madeline here.” The principal gestured to her. She sat alone, looking tiny in the huge chair on the opposite side of the room.

 

“You’re Madeline?” Mr. Heere asked her, and held in his knowing laugh.

 

“Did they all team up on just her? Because she’s been bullying Jenna, but that’s a little overboard.” He shot looks at them all.

 

“There were more!” Jake spoke up.

 

“There were?” Mr. Heere asked the principal.

 

“Yes, their parents have already picked them up.” The principal sighed.

 

“I-” Madeline suddenly spoke. She shifted uncomfortably in everyone’s stare. “I started it.”

 

No one really knew what to say.

 

“Young lady, is that true?” The principal asked her, looking shocked.

 

Rich and the other kids looked around at each other, not really believing what was happening.

 

“Uh, yes, sir.” Madeline folded her hands and kept her gaze there. “I’ve been… I’ve been a bully to Jenna for a while, and they approached me and asked me to stop, and I said no and… and then I hit Rich.”

 

Mr. Heere immediately looked over at Rich, who met his eyes and silently let him know that that was _not_ how it happened.

 

“ _You_ hit _Richard_?” The principal asked, incredulous.

 

“Uh, just Rich… sir.” Rich piped up, and immediately shut up again when all he received was a pointed look.

 

“Yes, sir. And… and I’m sorry.” Madeline told them, still refusing to look up.

 

“Is that what really happened, kids?” The principal turned to them, and sighed as he had to take their word for it when they all nodded.

 

“Okay then. You’re all going to in-school suspension for the next three days, and then there will be no more fighting on school grounds. Is that clear?”

 

“Clear.” They all spoke.

 

“Alright, go home.” He waved them out. “Madeline, go wait for your mother in one of the seats outside.”

 

“Yes, sir.” She said quietly, doing as she was told and following behind Mr. Heere and the others as they walked out.

 

As Madeline took her seat, she looked somewhat shaken. Before he thought about it, Rich waved to her. “Bye, Madeline!” He called cheerfully.

 

He didn’t tell the others, but he swore she had tears in her eyes.

 

“So, uh,” Michael spoke up when they got to their cars in the lot, “we’re totally grounded, aren’t we?”

 

Mr. Heere chuckled and pat his shoulder. “Oh, yeah.”


	2. Jeremy's Birthday

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *takes place right after Jeremy's chapter ends

“Wait, wait, before we do that – Jeremiah, go change.”

 

Jeremy spread his arms out, looking down at his soaking wet clothes and chuckling. “Okay.”

 

As he went up the stairs, the others turned back to look at Michael.

 

“Jeremiah?” Jake asked.

 

“Oh, yeah, Jer’s full name.” Michael explained, shrugging.

 

“So, his name is Jeremiah, but he goes by Jeremy, and his nickname is Jer?” Rich gave them all a confused look.

 

“He’s never liked going by ‘Jeremiah’. When we first met as kids, I had already liked going by Michael, so when Jeremy started talking to me and I asked him to call me that, he was shocked that people could go by other names.” Michael laughed at the memory. “He asked me to call him ‘Jer’ then, but as we grew ‘Jeremiah’ got shortened to ‘Jeremy’.”

 

“Aww, that’s sweet!” Christine gushed. “You still call him Jer now!”

 

“Yeah, well, Chloe still calls Brooke ‘Cookie’.” Michael blushed, rubbing the back of his head.

 

“I agree, Mikey,” Jeremy told him as he walked back into the kitchen, now sporting old batman pajama bottoms and a loose t-shirt, “it is cute.” He leaned over to peck his boyfriend’s cheek.

 

“Oh yeah, and Jer calls me that after the ninja turtle.” Michael laughed, sticking his tongue out at Jeremy before returning the peck.

 

“Oh my god, of course.” Chloe said lightheartedly, nudging her shoulder against Jeremy’s as he let Michael go.

 

“Hey, we were little kids, sue me.” Jeremy laughed. “Not to break up the reminiscing or anything, but do we have anything… warm?” Jeremy hugged himself loosely. “I’m _freezing_.”

 

“Yeah, that’s what happens when you run away in the pouring rain.” Michael told him, stripping off his hoodie. He looked like he debated it for a few seconds, looking down at his arms and the old scars there, before handing it over to Jeremy. “Here, Jer.” He offered, and smiled when everyone respected him enough not to ask.

 

“Thanks, Michael!” Jeremy yelled as he put it on over his head. He hugged himself again when he finally got it completely on. “Oh, my god, it’s so _cozy_.” He closed his eyes and let himself take in the coziness for a minute, failing to notice how hard Michael was blushing and staring at him.

 

Jenna snapped a quick pic of the moment while she could (She decided she would be in charge of the picture-taking for this lovely event; the late-night birthday party of one Jeremy Heere).

 

“Jake! Jake! Jake! Let me wear yours!” Rich piped up suddenly, turning to his boyfriend and practically bouncing.

 

“Uh, okay.” Jake shrugged it off and handed it over. “But won’t it be too…”

 

Rich looked _adorable_.

 

“It’s too long!” Rich laughed big, smiling for the camera when Jenna took his picture.

 

“Can I have it back?” Jake asked, laughing with him and giving him the same loving stare that Michael gave Jeremy.

 

“Never. I _love it_.” Rich told him, waving one of his arms around so he could see the unfilled part of the sleeve flop.

 

“Let’s order a nice, warm pizza, and then we can eat your cake, and then you can open up your presents.” Mr. Heere offered, patting Jeremy’s shoulder.

 

“Presents?” Jeremy questioned, his face flushing. “You guys got me… presents?”

 

“Duh, Jeremy, it’s your birthday!” Brooke giggled.

 

Jeremy was silent for a moment, looking over his family. He felt the stress of the whole day almost melt away, and he honestly felt so loved by these people that he didn’t know what to do with it. As they chat amongst themselves, Mr. Heere grabbing the phone to place the pizza order, he couldn’t help but smile fondly.

 

(Jenna took a picture.)

 

-

 

“Jeremy, you still good?” Michael leaned over and asked him, chewing on his bite of pizza. “You’re still shivering.”

 

Jeremy laughed it off. “Yeah, I’m good. Your hoodie is amazing. Don’t worry about it.”

 

Neither of them saw Mr. Heere’s eyes on them. He cleared his throat as he stood. “Well, if everyone’s about done with their pizza, I’ll get the cake. And, uh, I’m in the mood for some tea, how about you kids?” He asked, trying not to look directly to Jeremy in hopes his attempt wasn’t obvious.

 

“I am!” everyone spoke, and if Mr. Heere didn’t know any better, he’d think they were all just taking one so Jeremy would.

 

“Can I help?” Jake turned and asked him timidly.

 

Mr. Heere chuckled and smiled down to him. “Of course, son.” He wondered if it would be sooner or later that Jake stopped asking to help and just did it.

 

Soon enough, they were both back, Mr. Heere carrying the cake, and Jake carrying the cups (as best he could).

 

“We’re not gonna light the candles, ‘cause…” Rich started telling Jeremy, his sentence trailing off as he wouldn’t look directly at them.

 

“That’s okay, Rich.” Jeremy told him earnestly, meeting his eyes. “We don’t have to.”

 

Mr. Heere smiled at them, feeling proud of Jeremy for understanding. He took this silent opportunity to start singing.

 

As everyone finished the song, Jeremy gave a big blow to pretend-blow out his candles, and everyone cheered.

 

“What’d you wish for?!” Jenna spoke excitedly, raising her phone a small bit to show him she was recording.

 

“I… I didn’t wish for anything. I have all I need, right here.” Jeremy smiled to the table, and Jenna stopped recording after everyone ‘awww’ed at him.

 

“Jeremy, you gushy-” Michael finished his sentence by pulling him close to kiss him. “That was so sweet.” Jenna giggled as she took a picture of it, loving the face Christine was pulling in the background.

 

They cut the cake, giving Jeremy the first piece, and everyone dug in. Jake passed around cups of tea, and Jeremy let his warm his hands for a minute.

 

Suddenly, with a mouthful of food, Rich spoke, sounding like one of the seagulls from Finding Nemo. “Presents?” He gawked, looking to the others for backup.

 

“Oh, my god, Rich.” Jeremy giggled.

 

“Presents?” Christine joined in, sharing in Rich’s playful smirk.

 

“Presents!” Chloe chirped from her spot, her smile growing as well.

 

Mr. Heere had to shush the table when everyone but he and Jeremy joined in, laughing as he went to get the presents from their hidden spot.

 

Everyone cheered again and got back to conversation. Michael noticed Jeremy cringing just the tiniest bit when everyone did so, and he frowned.

 

“Jeremy, you’re really okay?” Michael asked him quietly.

 

“Yeah, I’m fine.” Jeremy answered honestly. “Just a little headache, nothing major.” He gave him a small smile and Michael let it go.

 

“Here you are, Jeremy!” Mr. Heere set them down in front of him as the plates were shoved out of the way. “Happy birthday, son!”

 

“You guys, this is way too much.” Jeremy looked at the presents, all nine of them feeling like he was getting something he didn’t deserve.

 

“There’s one from each of us!” Rich told him excitedly. “But, but, open your Dad’s last!”

 

Jeremy laughed it off and reached for the one from Chloe.

 

A blue hoodie emerged from the box, not unlike Michael’s own, with a red heart sewn in the same spot it was on Michael’s jacket. “It’s, uh, a hoodie… obviously.” Chloe explained quietly. “You guys like matching stuff, so I thought… y’know.” She looked to Jeremy almost uncomfortably. “Do you like it?”

 

“Like it? Chloe, I love it.” Jeremy answered earnestly, smiling at her and rubbing at the patch. “Did you sew this on here yourself?”

 

“Yeah, but Michael and Christine helped.” Chloe admitted, trying to hide the small blush that arrived at Jeremy’s loving response.

 

Next up, Jeremy grabbed Rich’s present. He chuckled to himself when Rich started jumping in his seat with excitement, shaking it for show before opening it up completely. Inside, he was greeted with a small, beaded bracelet, the beads striping blue and white with a blue glittery star in the middle.

 

“Rich…” Jeremy spoke, his eyes never leaving the bracelet as he ran his hands over it, “Did you make this?”

 

“Yeah! Christine had craft stuff and she showed me how! It’s fun!” Rich told him excitedly. “I mean, it might be kind of childish.” Rich rubbed the back of his neck.

 

“I’m not really a jewelry person,” Jeremy mumbled, still transfixed on the present.

 

“Oh, that’s okay, Jeremy! You don’t have to wear it or anything, you can-”

 

“Are you kidding me? I’m never taking it off.” Jeremy answered quickly, already slipping it on his wrist and smiling a genuine smile to Rich. “Thank you.” Rich only smiled back harder.

 

Jeremy reached for a present wrapped in metallic purple, seeing that it was from Jenna on the tag. As he tore away the paper and opened the box, a plush dolphin smiled up at him.

 

“Oh, my god, Jenna,” Jeremy laughed through his blush, “how did you know?”

 

“Know… what? I don’t get it.” Christine asked.

 

“I know everything, Jeremy. Trust me.” Jenna laughed back, letting her phone record both of their laughter as she found it hilarious.

 

“I don’t get it either. What’s going on?” Mr. Heere asked them.

 

“N-Nothing, Mr. Heere!” Michael stuttered, shoving the dolphin back in the box. “Very cute Jenna, on to the next present now!”

 

Michael handed him the present from Brooke, and Jeremy gently tore away the paper, as it wasn’t in a box.

 

“Ta-dah! I know you guys already have matching tattoos, but I found some _retro_ pac man temporary ones!” Brooke explained, and Michael stared at the present with stars in his eyes from over Jeremy’s shoulder.

 

“Those are amazing!” Michael told her.

 

“Will they even work?” Jake asked, laughing at how excited Michael was.

 

“Guess we’ll just have to see!” Brooke shrugged. “Ooh! Can we all get one! Then we could all match!”

 

“Sure.” Jeremy laughed, setting the tattoos aside.

 

Jeremy was handed Jake’s present, and he couldn’t hold in the laugh that came out at the sight of Jake’s bad wrapping.

 

“Hey, I tried my best!” Jake told him, pointing a fork from the cake in his direction.

 

“And your best is beautiful, Jake.” Rich told him sweetly, leaning over to snuggle Jake’s shoulder.

 

Jeremy removed the wrapping paper to reveal two sweaters. One said “I Love My Player 1” in blue, and the other said “I Love My Player 2” in red.

 

“Oh! One’s for Michael!” Jake explained quickly. “I was with Chloe when we found these, and y’know, you guys like to match, _and_ they match what you guys have each other as in your phones!” Jake smiled proudly as Jeremy hugged the sweater to his chest and passed the other to Michael.

 

“You know me too well.” He told Jake.

 

“How do you know about our phone contacts?” Michael pondered.

 

“So, open mine!” Christine pushed hers towards Jeremy excitedly.

 

Jeremy took a minute to admire the box, Christine’s present definitely being the neatest of them all. It was wrapped in blue paper with a gold ribbon tied around it. He opened it up, and found the small box was full of a few patches of his own. They were mostly blue, from an old-school sonic patch to a blue pac man ghost, along with a bisexual pride flag.

 

“I got you your first patches!” Christine giggled. “Chloe told me about her present, and I loved it so much!”

 

Michael brought his fist up to his chest, arching his back and feigning tears. “You guys, I am so proud. Showing my boy the patched hoodie life… how will I ever repay you?” Michael pretended to faint on top of Jeremy, using the opportunity to keep looking at the few patches.

 

“Alright, Michael.” Mr. Heere looked to him knowingly. “It’s time for your gift.”

 

Michael straightened up and bent down to pick his gift up off the floor. It wasn’t huge, but it was bigger than the others, and it looked like it was wrapped with care. Michael didn’t say anything as Jeremy slowly tore it open, revealing what was beneath.

 

Michael’s gift was a big glass picture frame that was filled with their memories. Polaroids, photobooth pictures, small retro video game decorations all decoratively filled up the inside, having been placed in just the perfect spots. At the bottom of the frame were some blue glittery glued-on letters that spelled out “Love.” Jeremy started tearing up as he looked over all the memories fondly.

 

“Oh, my goodness, Michael,” Christine spoke over Jeremy’s shoulder, “This is so thoughtful.”

 

Jeremy broke the sweet silence by setting the frame aside carefully and wiping his eyes. “Okay, okay, I need the next present, or I’m going to start crying again.” He coughed into his fist as a way to change the conversation, and Michael tried to pretend like he didn’t hear how real the cough counded.

 

“Alright, son,” Mr. Heere pushed his gift closer to Jeremy. “Open it up.”

 

Jeremy giggled to himself when everyone started watching him the most rapt attention he felt like he’d ever received. He started opening it slowly, getting faster the more of the Nintendo Switch logo he saw.

 

“Oh my god!” Jeremy stood, smiling broad. “Oh my god!”

 

“We know, right?!” Rich stood with him. “We even got a game!”

 

“Oh my god!” Jeremy spoke again, almost starting to vibrate with excitement. “You guys wanna check it out?!”

 

They looked to Mr. Heere, who shrugged. “Go ahead, it’s your birthday.”

 

“Yes!” The boys exclaimed unanimously, and all his kids left Mr. Heere in a whirlwind as they rushed past him and into the living room.

 

Mr. Heere walked to the doorway, watching Jeremy laugh and banter with the others as they all tried to help hook the new console up. He smiled a small smile, the feeling of love almost bursting from his chest. He was forever grateful that their lives had turned out this way.

 

_Happy Birthday, Jeremiah._

(Jenna took a picture.)


	3. Michael's Consequential Fever

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shoutout to TheReferencer! There will be a sick chapter!
> 
> Also, this chapter is kind of short and simple (I say, as it's still 1500 words).

“No! Leave him alone, he can take it when he wakes up! Just, let him sleep.” Someone’s voice whispered in the dark.

 

“The sooner he takes the medicine, the sooner he feels better!” Another voice whispered back.

 

“Trust me, he’ll want the sleep! We’ll just leave the medicine here, and he’ll see it and take it when he wakes up.” The first voice spoke again, and there was a small noise somewhere beside him.

 

“Dude, I’m telling you-”

 

Michael groaned and brought the covers around him higher. “Shut up.” He got out, his voice gravelly with sick and sleep.

 

A beat of silence, and then one of the voices was lightly shaking his shoulder. “Hey, Mikey,” He finally made it out as Jeremy, speaking to him gently, “Since you’re awake, you want to take some of this medicine we brought up?”

 

Michael groaned again and opened his eyes as much as he could, before he was shutting them tight again. His surroundings were blurry, and the bright lights added to making his head pound. “Lights.” He whispered.

 

“Sorry!” The other person said quietly, and he heard the lights switch off. When he opened his eyes this time, everything was still blurry, but the light had softened to a low, natural light streaming through the window blinds that didn’t hurt so much.

 

“Hey, big cat,” Jeremy greeted gently as Michael sat himself up in the bed and started rubbing at the crust in his eyes.

 

“Jeremy, now is not the time for any of your furry business.” The other person, now obviously being Rich, whispered to him quickly.

 

“Rich! It’s not-” Jeremy sighed, turning back to Michael and handing him his glasses. “Here you go.”

 

Michael shoved his glasses on and laughed hoarsely, smirking. “Yeah, Rich, I’m a hedgehog.”

 

Rich looked to him with wide eyes. “Really?” He asked.

 

“A-Anyway!” Jeremy interrupted them, flustered. Michael kept laughing at Rich, who just looked between them as if he didn’t know what to believe. “We brought up some medicine, and Dad said he can make you some soup, if you’re up to it?”

 

“Don’t you need to take medicine with food, anyway?” Rich wondered aloud.

 

“Some medicine, yeah.” Jeremy shrugged his shoulders at him.

 

“Thanks, guys.” Michael took the pills and glass of water from Jeremy. “That sounds amazing, actually.” He offered them a smile before downing the medicine and handing the glass back to Jeremy. “Uh, could I have some tissues, too?” He asked meekly.

 

Jeremy leaned in to kiss his cheek. “Sure thing, babe.”

 

-

 

“So, how’s our new resident sick kid doing?” Mr. Heere asked, looking up from the cookbook he was reading at the table.

 

“Still sick.” Jeremy frowned, taking the empty cup to the dishwasher as Rich took a seat.

 

Mr. Heere hummed in disappointment. “That stinks. I told him not to stay in bed with you while you were sick.” He chided, closing his book and starting to stand. “What did he say about the soup?”

 

“Oh yeah, he said it sounded amazing.” Jeremy answered, smiling up at his dad as he passed by.

 

“Good!” Mr. Heere let out a small laugh, headed for the kitchen doorway. “Hey, Jake, you want to help make Michael some soup and take it up to him?”

 

Jake jumped on the opportunity, at Mr. Heere’s side in a second.

 

“Alright, from now on, everyone’s taking turns helping out Michael so that no one is around him too much and getting themselves sick. Clear?” He called to others, left in the living room.

 

“Clear!” They answered unanimously.

 

-

 

The soup had tasted awesome going down.

 

Not so much coming back up.

 

Mr. Heere was kneeled down next to Michael, rubbing his back as his head hung over the upstairs bathroom toilet. He did his best to remember that no matter how gross the situation might be, Michael still appreciated the comfort. In all honesty, he’d probably prefer it if it were Jeremy, but Mr. Heere had been the one heading up to check on him when he’d ran past and into the bathroom.

 

“You okay?” Mr. Heere asked him after anything had stopped coming up for a minute.

 

Michael groaned in response, closing his eyes.

 

“Lean back for me, okay?” Mr. Heere instructed, using his hands to guide Michael into more of a straight up position than leaned over the toilet. Michael did little to protest, other than continuing to groan. Mr. Heere went to feel the boy’s forehead, instantly retracting when he felt how hot it was. “You’re burning up.” He said quietly.

 

“Is Jeremy okay?” Michael suddenly asked.

 

“What? Yeah, Michael, Jeremy’s not sick anymore.” Mr. Heere answered, looking to the boy quizzically.

 

“But Jeremy’s _okay_?” Michael asked again. He opened his eyes to look up at Mr. Heere, letting him see just how glassy and unfocused they’d become. “We made him sad. We didn’t mean to make him sad!” Michael almost started yelling.

 

“No, we didn’t mean to. But that happens, and he’s okay now.” Mr. Heere soothed, rubbing Michael’s back yet again.

 

“He thought I forgot!” Michael started to cry in his fever-induced state. “I made him cry!”

 

“Michael, son, we all made him cry. But he forgave us, and he’s okay now. He’s right downstairs, I promise.” Mr. Heere tried.

 

Michael scrunched his eyebrows up in confusion, and if he wasn’t currently completely out of it and soaked with sweat, Mr. Heere would say it was almost cute.

 

“I… I don’t feel so good, Dad.” Michael whispered to him after a while.

 

Mr. Heere took a moment to stare at him in shock, before he just smiled fondly and rubbed at his back again. “I know, son.”

 

“I’m tired.” Michael all but whimpered, practically collapsing into Mr. Heere’s arms with a huff.

 

“I can see that.” Mr. Heere chuckled.

 

Michael opened his eyes one more time, just the smallest bit, to glance around the room. He closed them again and yawned. “Bed.” He mumbled, and before Mr. Heere could do anything, he was asleep.

 

“Really, Michael?” Mr. Heere laughed softly, readjusting he and Michael before he hauled them both off the floor, carrying Michael in his arms. “Too tired to _walk_ back to bed?” He joked, using his foot to nudge open the door the rest of the way and taking Michael back to the bedroom.

 

After he’d laid Michael back down and brought the blankets up over him, he took the empty soup bowl and cup from the nightstand with one hand, using the other to ruffle Michael’s sweaty hair. “Rest up, son.” and went to walk out the door.

 

“Thanks, Dad.” Michael mumbled out, voice almost gone. When Mr. Heere turned back, he met Michael’s still glassy half-lidded eyes. “Love you.” He murmured again, quieter, before slumping back into sleep completely.

 

Mr. Heere smiled at his sleeping form, feeling the love in his chest grip him tight. He quickly wiped at his eyes and whispered, “I love you, too.”

 

-

 

Michael was only sick for a couple of days before he was back to his full self.

 

Thank goodness.

 

Not only had everyone been busy worrying over him, but they’d all missed him around the house. Jeremy, obviously, missed his boyfriend and his constant comfort. Rich was noticeably losing at any video games he tried to play, always looking to his empty side with worried longing. Jake had refused to play any games at all – not without Michael, that wasn’t fair. Jenna made sure to keep tabs on anything funny or important that Michael was missing, just so he wouldn’t feel left out – she felt she owed him that much, since it’s what he did for her constantly. Christine really missed his antics and surprising repertoire of musical songs, which the two of them would often belt out together (even if no one else joined them). Brooke and Chloe sincerely missed their late-night hangouts with him, spent with him letting them paint his nails and talking about anything they could think of.

 

But now, he was feeling better, the only sickness remaining being a slightly stubborn runny nose. Michael had joined the others back downstairs on the couch, now only with a blanket (“I don’t need it, I swear! I have my hoodie, and I’m not even cold! I… thanks.”) and a box of tissues close by.

 

“Take that!” Jake exclaimed from the floor next to him.

 

“Nooooooooooo!” Rich yelled dramatically, falling down to the floor and pretending to die. “You’ve defeated me! My greatest enemy, my friend!... My love!” Rich cried, adding a _blegh_ and raising an arm toward Jake before making it fall limp on the ground.

 

Jeremy extended his foot to kick at Rich’s arm, adding on to the pretend-death scenario. Rich let his arm just flop at Jeremy’s kick, only cracking his façade when Jeremy started to laugh.

 

Michael watched them with love, looking to Jeremy laughing like it was his life source. Jeremy noticed him and started blushing. “What?” He asked, flustered.

 

Michael leaned over until he was resting on Jeremy’s side, bringing up the blanket so it partially covered up the both of them and snuggled close, settling into his new spot. “I missed you.” He sighed, continuing to watch as Jake started up another round on the game, this time preparing to fight against Brooke.

 

He rose and fell with Jeremy’s chest as Jeremy sighed, and felt Jeremy press a kiss into his hair. “We missed you too, Mikey.”


	4. "Really Not Feelin Up To It Right Now. Sorry."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw: depression

“Jake?”

 

Jake snapped back into reality at the voice, unaware he’d even been drifting out of it in the first place. “Huh?” He asked simply, turning his head to look over at Chloe and Brooke where they sat together on the opposite couch.

 

“We asked if you wanted to go see a movie with us,” Brooke relayed to him, “We’re kind of bored.”

 

Jake went quiet, thinking it over. Truth be told, he didn’t want to. He just… didn’t feel up to it. Not right now, anyway. Sure, a movie sounded fun normally, but right now, he didn’t feel very much interested in anything. He didn’t even know what they had been watching on tv.

 

After a minute more of thinking, Jake shrugged and turned his gaze back to the tv in front of him. “No thanks.”

 

The air turned awkward as he felt the girls’ eyes on him, but he couldn’t even bring himself to care much about that, either.

 

“Well,” Chloe spoke up, “we were going to go see that one you were telling us about yesterday. You know, that one you said you _really_ wanted to go see?” She tried, verbally nudging him.

 

“Cool,” Jake told her, turning back to offer a small, forced smile. “Hope you guys have fun.” He said, turning back to the tv yet again.

 

Jake went back to mindless wondering, again not realizing it. He wasn’t even sure what he was wondering about, his mind heavy and fuzzy. He was so out of it, he didn’t notice when Brooke and Chloe retreated upstairs, leaving him alone.

 

-

 

“Uno!” Jenna yelled, laughing madly when everyone else groaned.

 

“This isn’t fair,” Michael pouted. “You’re using your omniscient powers for evil!”

 

Rich scrunched his eyebrows together in confusion. “Omni-sc-” He tried to sound it out, looking almost frustrated when his lisp came out stronger than normal with the uncertainty.

 

“Omniscient. It means all-knowing.” Christine explained, moving over to nudge Rich’s shoulder with her own.

 

“Oh,” Rich nodded, giggling back at her, “thanks, Chris!”

 

“No problem, Rick.” Christine laughed with him, both of them bringing their cards up to their faces to peer at each other over them, making everyone else laugh as well.

 

“Knock, knock,” Chloe’s voice came through as she knocked on the open door to her and Jenna’s room. “What’re you guys up to?”

 

“We were playing Uno, but Jenna decided that she couldn’t use her all-knowing powers responsibly.” Michael answered, looking up at her and Brooke as they walked over to sit down with them.

 

“You could never be Spider-Man.” Jeremy tutted, shaking his head at her.

 

“What about you guys? What were you doing?” Jenna asked them after giving Jeremy a fake shocked stare.

 

“Well, we were watching some tv with Jake, but then he seemed sort of… out of it.” Brooke started.

 

“Yeah, so we started talking about going to the movies to try and get his attention, but he didn’t even notice us talking, just kept staring into space.” Chloe continued for her, nodding back at everyone’s wondering looks to affirm the story. “So, we decided we’d see that one he was talking all about yesterday-”

 

“You mean ‘Kiss Me Deadly’? The one with the assassin couple who’re both double agents from opposite sides and neither of them know? The one he would _not_ stop talking about?” Christine interrupted.

 

“Yeah, that one. Anyway, he still didn’t hear us until we said his name, like, five times. And then when we asked him to go with us?” Chloe spoke, only to be interrupted again, this time by Brooke.

 

“He said ‘no thanks’!”

 

“He… Jake said ‘no thanks’ to seeing Kiss Me Deadly?” Rich asked, his eyes becoming worried.

 

“Yeah! Well, he didn’t know that’s what we were gonna see, but when we told him, he just said ‘Cool. Hope you guys have fun.’!” Chloe spoke again, lowering her voice to try and imitate Jake’s answer.

 

Michael bit his lip in concern. “I’m going to talk to him.” He said.

 

-

 

“Hey, man.”

 

The couch dipped as Michael sat at the other end, making Jake turn to look at him.

 

“Hey.”

 

Jake felt Michael’s eyes on him, but still couldn’t find it in himself to care.

 

“What’cha watching?” Michael asked him, pointing at the tv.

 

“Oh,” Jake focused back on it, only now realizing it had become some old black and white show, “I have no idea.”

 

“You want to watch something else?” Michael spoke, his eyes still boring into Jake’s side.

 

Jake just shrugged his shoulders as an answer.

 

Michael reached for the remote, starting to flip the channels. “What do you like to watch?” He tried to start a conversation, frowning when Jake just shrugged again.

 

“Jake… is something wrong?” Michael finally asked.

 

Jake’s eyes never left the tv as he just shrugged yet again.

 

He heard Michael type something into his phone, and before he knew it, everyone else was downstairs with them. He still didn’t really care that they were all surrounding him and watching him with worry, but suddenly the idea of worrying _Rich_ started gnawing at the back of his mind.

 

“Jake,” Rich whispered, sitting down beside him, “are you okay?”

 

Jake looked around at his newfound family, suddenly feeling awful for how worried they all were. “I’m fine.” He told them, trying to smile to lighten their mood, but his vision started to blur. “I’m…”

 

Rich moved his arm around him, holding him close as a few tears started falling. “Jake, what’s wrong? Why’re you crying?”

 

Jake shook his head and closed his eyes, bringing his hand up to wipe the stray tears away. “I don’t know.” He admitted softly, his voice cracking and more tears breaking loose.

 

Everyone fell silent as they continued to comfort him, all watching with concern.

 

“You’re… Jake, you’re depressed.” Michael spoke up, his voice quiet in realization.

 

“No, I’m not.” Jake rebutted. “I’m fine, I promise you guys.”

 

“How often do you feel like this?” Michael asked, ignoring the attempt at waving the situation away.

 

Jake raised his gaze to meet Michael’s eyes, and the weird guilt he felt at the worry there made him tell the truth. “Not… not a lot.” He said honestly, wiping his eyes again. “Just, only a little bit, and only from time to time. I just sometimes feel kind of… empty. Like, a bored that’s more than bored.” He explained. “It’s not depression, or anything. I’m fine. I promise.”

 

“Jake,” Rich piped up again, and Jake almost swore when he heard him using the extremely soft voice he hadn’t heard since the night Christine was adopted. “That’s exactly what depression is.” Rich’s eyes shone bright as they looked up at his. “Why haven’t you ever told me about this?”

 

Jake felt emotionally stabbed, his mind instantly going from empty and heavy to guilty and hating himself for ever making Rich question their relationship in any way.

 

“Because it’s not that big of a deal,” He promised them, before adding quietly, “besides, everyone else is busy with their own stuff.”

 

“Never too busy to help, Jake.” Jenna spoke up. “What did you do when you felt this way before?”

 

Jake looked down to where Rich had grabbed his hand and was rubbing his thumb back and forth in comfort. He refused to meet anyone’s eyes. “I was alone.” He spoke quietly. “I would just sit there. Do nothing.” He chuckled, his voice cracking again when he told them, “It’s not like anyone was there to notice.”

 

It was silent yet again, as Jake suddenly realized how many hands were on him. Rich was his eternal relief, one arm around him and the other holding his hand. Michael sat on the other side of Rich, resting his arm on the top of the couch and reaching around Rich to keep his hand on Jake’s shoulder. Christine perched on the arm of the couch on his other side, her hand softly touching his hair. Jeremy, Chloe, Brooke, and Jenna all made a semi-circle around his feet, and he just noticed that they’d pushed back the coffee table so they could all fit. Each one had one hand on his legs in solidarity.

 

“We’re here now.” Rich whispered to him, and Jake cried harder.

 

-

 

It was later when Mr. Heere walked from the kitchen to find his kids and let them know dinner was ready, and to ask Jake to help him set the table.

 

As he approached the living room, he stopped whistling and went as quiet as he could. There, on and surrounding one couch, sat all his kids, every single one of them leaning into each other and toward Jake, all somehow (probably uncomfortably) asleep.

 

Mr. Heere thought back to the night he’d adopted Rich, and the similar sleeping situation he’d found three of them in then. He decided to do what he had that night, and snap a quick loving picture of them before nudging Jeremy, who seemed to be touching the least people.

 

“Hmm?” Jeremy asked groggily, fluttering his eyes open and looking up at his dad.

 

“Hey, son, looks like you all fell asleep.” Mr. Heere chuckled. “Wake the others up and we can eat some dinner, okay?”

 

Jeremy smiled sleepily, already starting to nudge the others awake. “Okay.”

 

As Mr. Heere walked away, he heard Rich and Jake yawn, before Rich whispered, “You feel better now, Jakey?”

 

He could almost hear the smile in Jake’s voice as he kept walking and pretending not to hear them. “Yeah… I do.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okie dokie loki, just a quick post note:  
>  I know that depression needs more than a one-time cuddle party to fix. I know this personally, because I have it. This chapter was inspired by what I myself have gone through (more emptiness and alone-ness, less the having a group of caring friends to snuggle with). I just wanted to add this in case anyone gets the wrong idea and thought me ending it there was saying that Jake's all Cured™, because that's not what I was going for. This is probably unimportant to you, and probably no one took this chapter and thought that, but my anxiety over it was bad enough to make me include this. So, anyway, thank you guys for reading & being so wonderful & leaving such nice comments all the time. I really, really, really appreciate them.


	5. Jenna Bonds

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, this chapter title sucks. But eh, what can you do?
> 
> Oh! And these aren't linear, they're just little stories all put into one all-consuming chapter. And these chapters aren't linear either, in case anyone thought so. Anyway!
> 
> tw: shared bad memories (alcoholism, abusive people)

“Hey, Jake, can you help me out with this?”

 

Jake looked up from his scattered textbook, papers, calculator, and pencils to see Jenna joining him at the table.

 

“Jenna? The all-mighty and all-knowing Jenna needs _my_ help?” Jake teased, smiling at her.

 

Jenna countered by throwing her books to the table where they slid everywhere and throwing herself into a bowing position. “I have shared with you my powers of knowledge and wisdom, and now I am at a loss!” She spoke loudly, a bad and unidentifiable accent added along.

 

Soon enough, they were both giggling.

 

“Alright, alright, let me guess,” Jake spoke while Jenna recollected her things, “It’s our stupid math homework.” He frowned down at his calculator, which displayed ‘error’ even though he was sure he’d put the equation in right the last five times.

 

“Yeah!” Jenna sighed in frustration. “I don’t know who Mrs. Amerson thinks we are, but I know for sure that none of us have the time to finish all of this – when we _do_ understand it.” She fumed, taking the seat beside Jake.

 

Jake hummed in agreement, looking back down at his work with an exaggerated frown.

 

“It makes me so frustrated,” Jenna kept going, “like, she almost makes me wish I wasn’t in the honors class at all. I can’t stand how _stupid_ it makes me feel to have straight A’s in everything else, and then hardly understand this math stuff.” She sighed.

 

“It’s not stupid, Jen,” Jake told her, “I think she’s one of those teachers that assumes that, since we’re in honors, that we can automatically take on this shit-ton of work.”

 

Jenna nodded at that, and they got to work.

 

In the middle of Jenna poking something into her calculator, Jake asked her, “Do you like the honors classes?”

 

“Hmm?” Jenna hummed, not looking away as she wrote the calculator result onto her paper.

 

“Do you like the honors classes, normally?” He asked her again, leaning back into his chair and crossing his arms.

 

Jenna took a moment to think about it. “I mean, yeah. Normally, I do. I like the challenge. What about you?”

 

“It’s kind of lonely.” Jake admitted. “I mean, not really _lonely_ , ‘cause I have them with you, but not with Rich,” He let out a sigh. “or the others. And doesn’t it kind of stink when something funny happens in their classes and we just have to hear about it later?”

 

Jenna quirked her lips in thought. “Yeah, and it makes our days a bit boring. None of the honors teachers have _anything_ funny happen in their classes.” She chuckled.

 

Jake looked down at his crossed arms and sighed. He took a moment before he spoke, quietly, “And, you know, what you said about having no one to show it to.”

 

Jenna snapped her eyes to him in surprise. She never expected Jake to share anything so personal with her – sure, if the whole group was here, but with just her? …Well, they were the only two to share this specific issue, but _still_.

 

“You, uh, remember that?” Jenna laughed awkwardly.

 

“Yeah, I remember that.” Jake told her, still not looking up. “When I was a little kid and got good grades, my parents were so happy about it. I think I kept trying even after they left because part of me hoped if I made something good of myself, they’d come back.” He laughed wryly.

 

“You make something good of yourself for _you_ , not for anyone else.” Jenna spoke solidly. “When I was a kid and made good grades, no one cared. Every foster parent I had just shooed me away if I tried to show them anything.” Jenna began to chuckle at a memory, “I used to try and excel at whatever I thought the current foster parent liked.” She let out a short sigh. “When it was clear that no one would care no matter what I did, I told myself I would make it big and then people would _have_ to care – would _have_ to notice me.”

 

“I used to put my own report cards on the fridge.” Jake shared, finally looking back up at her and smirking.

 

“Me too!” Jenna exclaimed. “No one ever saw!”

 

They laughed at their shared painful memories, both sighing at the end.

 

“Jenna… I’m proud of your good grades.” Jake told her, voice serious again.

 

She met his eyes and they smiled to each other.

 

“I’m proud of your good grades, Jake.”

 

-

 

“Looks like you’ve got a different roommate tonight!” Christine exclaimed, walking over to Chloe’s bed and sitting down with a huff.

 

“Brooke and Chloe up to some _shenanigans_?” Jenna giggled, looking up from her phone and wiggling her eyebrows.

 

“Yep. Chloe’s been in our room all night being all sweet, and then they started making out and Brooke just waved me out – _of my own room_.” Christine imitated Brooke’s position, showing Jenna the ‘get out’ wave she received.

 

“Well, here at the luxurious bedroom of Jen and Chlo, we’ve got an open bed tonight. You’re welcome to stay.” Jenna told her.

 

Christine laughed and got comfortable, leaning against the wall and pulling out her own phone.

 

The two stayed in calm quiet, Jenna standing to close the door and click the lights off when it got late enough. Eventually, both were laying down, their phones clicked off, and almost asleep.

 

“Hey, Jenna?” Christine’s voice asked through the dark.

 

“Yeah?” Jenna’s voice asked back.

 

“Do you… do you know anything about your parents?” Christine asked timidly.

 

“Sure, Mr. Heere’s down the hall.” Jenna replied, shrugging her shoulders.

 

Christine laughed quietly at that. “If you don’t want to talk about it, you don’t have to. I’m sorry.” She said, and Jenna swore you could hear the reassuring smile in her voice.

 

After a beat of silence, Jenna spoke up. “I don’t know anything about them.”

 

“Really?” Christine questioned.

 

“I still have the note.” Jenna admitted. “It just says: ‘Her name is Jenna Alexandria Rolan.’ It’s really pretty handwriting, though.”

 

“It’s a really pretty name.” Christine told her.

 

“Thanks. It’s the only thing I know about me, or about them. I don’t even know my birthday.” Jenna laughed into the dark.

 

“What?” Christine asked, making noise as she moved in the bed. “How do you not know your own birthday?”

 

“I told you, the only thing written on the note was my name. They took me to a doctor to get me checked out and everything, and they had to guess at what age I was. The birthday I go by now, the one that’s written down, is the day I was dropped off.”

 

After Christine said a simple “Oh.” and a few more seconds of silence passed, Jenna spoke up again.

 

“What about your parents?”

 

“Mr. Heere’s down the hall.” Christine joked, re-using Jenna’s line. “I don’t know much about my dad, but my grandmother told me a lot about my Mom. She told me that she’d been so mad at her when she married my dad that she refused to speak to her, and then… the crash.” She sighed heavily. "Sometimes I think I remember little pieces of them, like my mother’s voice, or the way my father smelled that day, but it’s not really clear. I can’t tell if they’re actual memories, or something I’ve made up or seen somewhere else.”

 

Jenna’s blankets ruffled as she moved in her bed. “I don’t want to know anything about mine.” She admitted.

 

“Yours could still be alive, Jen. You wouldn’t want to meet them if you could?” Christine asked, genuinely wondering.

 

“No. They obviously didn’t want me, or else I’d know who they were now. And since they didn’t want me, I don’t want them either – I don’t need them to validate me.” She said firmly. “And… and now, I have a Dad that _does_ want me,” her voice lowered to a quiet, emotional and truthful whisper, “and siblings that do, too. And I wouldn’t trade you for anything.”

 

“We wouldn’t trade you for anything either, Jenna.” Christine whispered back.

 

-

 

“What color did you say, Chlo?” Jenna asked, screwing the cap back on the bright pink nail polish she held and putting it back in the pile.

 

“Blue, please.” Chloe answered, laughing and shaking her hands to get the pink to dry faster.

 

“Will do!” Jenna laughed with her, setting the few different blues to the side of the pile. “How’d you get so many different colors in the first place? You have, like, a treasure trove full of makeup.”

 

“I used to spend most of my time shopping around the mall.” Chloe admitted. “It definitely beat going home to a stupid mansion, empty except for maids and butlers.”

 

“Why? That sounds like a lot of people’s dreams.” Jenna asked, her eyebrows scrunching up.

 

“It’s not what people make it out to be. My parents bought these big houses in different places and spread me and my siblings all around the country, leaving us all alone and giving us these maids or butlers – who aren’t nice, by the way. They all think I’m just some spoiled rotten kid and they’re only there for the job. Going home to no one but these people you hardly know that already don’t like you _isn’t fun_.” Chloe ranted, rolling her eyes in exasperation.

 

“I understand that.” Jenna told her. “I mean, the people I hardly knew were foster parents and other kids, not butlers or maids, but it was the same concept. None of them liked me, and I didn’t like them. I… I told you guys, I hardly ever went home.”

 

Chloe hummed in agreement and they relapsed into comfortable silence.

 

Well, until Michael was there.

 

“So, I can smell the nail polish from next door, and my black is chipping. Can you fix it, Jen?” Michael asked her, showing both the girls his half-unpainted nails.

 

“You have to stop picking it off!” Jenna scolded. “But sure, I can fix them. Join us.” She patted the carpet next to them and the nail polish pile.

 

“Me too!” Rich yelled, suddenly there as well and already digging through the pile and pulling out all the bright colors.

 

Chloe and Jenna shared a look at the boys and then to each other, both offering happy and genuine smiles.

 

-

 

“Hey, Jenna.”

 

Jenna jumped at the surprise voice, hissing when her head hit to top of the fridge.

 

“Oh, shit! Sorry!” Rich apologized, suddenly next to her. “Are you okay?”

 

“Yeah, I’m fine,” She laughed, “but don’t do that!”

 

Rich laughed with her and returned to his seat at kitchen island. Jenna tried to pretend like she didn’t see how much more effort he always had to put into getting up on the stools than everyone else.

 

“You didn’t see me.” Rich said simply, giving a nice smile but looking and sounding overtly tired.

 

“No, Rich, I didn’t.” Jenna chuckled, uncapping the small water bottle she’d been looking for and taking a small sip. “All the lights are off.”

 

Rich didn’t say anything in return for a moment, before just shrugging at her.

 

“Well?” Jenna asked.

 

“Well what?” Rich asked back.

 

“What were you doing down here in the dark in the middle of the night?” Jenna pressed.

 

Rich, once again, went quiet. He thought about lying to her, but he figured she would know. She did, after all, know everything.

 

“I had a nightmare.” He whispered, almost too quiet to hear.

 

Jenna frowned and walked around the island to sit next to him. “The fire again?”

 

Rich shook his head, looking off into the distance. “No. My folks.”

 

Jenna didn’t know what to say. Like Jake, she never expected Rich to just share something so personal with only her. She felt anxiously afraid that she didn’t have the comfort Rich needed in her.

 

“Your parents?” She spoke up.

 

“Yeah. It started out happy, but then we were at the hospital all over again, and Mom was passing away, right there,” Rich’s voice started to break, and he paused to let himself calm down. “And I was a little kid again, just watching my family break apart that moment she left. And then it got all dream-trippy, and Thomas turned into this _thing_ I couldn’t recognize, and Dad turned into this huge monster and…”

 

Jenna could imagine where the rest of the dream went.

 

“Who’s, uh… who’s Thomas?” Jenna decided to ask.

 

“Thomas is… _was_ my older brother.” Rich told her, voice edging on angry.

 

“Was?” She asked meekly.

 

“He ran away. We used to be super tight, and then he left and abandoned me with…” He gave a curt nod instead of finishing the sentence.

 

“One of my foster parents was like that.” Jenna blurted out, her mind previously racing for things to share to comfort him.

 

“Abandon…y?” Rich questioned, looking to her in confusion.

 

“No, I mean, yeah, but I meant… drunk.” She started playing at the hem of her shirt and wouldn’t look back at him.

 

“Jenna…” Rich whispered softly, his hand reaching out to rest on her shoulder.

 

“I don’t think I’ve ever told anyone this,” She laughed awkwardly, “But, when I was younger, this one woman took me and a few other kids. She was always angry, and always drinking. When we didn’t behave, she’d…” Jenna looked up to meet Rich’s eyes, desperately hoping that he understood her without her having to finish that sentence. “She hit one kid too hard one time, and while we were at the hospital, they arrested her and sent us all to a different home.”

 

“I’m sorry.” Rich whispered, voice hoarse with honesty.

 

“Don’t be. I wasn’t there long, so… yeah.” Jenna shrugged, before looking at him again. “Besides, I have you guys now – and you have us.”

 

Rich huffed a small laugh in agreement and raised the half-empty glass of milk he’d been drinking. “To family,” he offered.

 

Jenna clinked her plastic bottle with his glass as best she could, smiling.

 

“To family.”


	6. "Dad."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shoutout to Pikaace! I knew I would do this eventually, but the nice comment encouraged me to do it sooner rather than later!
> 
> My word, this got long. Some snippets are longer, some are shorter. Rich's is definitely too long. 
> 
> Hope you all enjoy anyway!

Every time one of the kids happened to slip up, Mr. Heere tried his absolute best to just ignore it and hopefully save them some embarrassment.

 

Keyword being _tried_.

 

He couldn’t help it, really! Every time he heard one of them say ‘Dad’, it filled with a type of joy and fulfillment he couldn’t explain. Every time someone slipped up, it was a reminder that they had become so close, so casual in their familial relationship that they didn’t even think twice about it. He gently encouraged them all to be more open with it, that there was no shame in calling him what he’d become – their father. Besides, he had no qualms with calling them his kids! (In all seriousness, he was _this close_ to ordering a family picture to keep in his wallet to show off to all the ‘Dad Friends’ he didn’t have – “What did your kids get you last Father’s Day, Jerry? Oh, that’s nice, my kids got me a _fucking house_.”)

 

(In the nearby future, every single one of them called him ‘Dad’ proudly, openly, and with no uncertainties whatsoever, – When Jake and Jenna made Valedictorian and Salutatorian of their graduating class and gave a shared speech, they ended it by saying “And we’d just like to thank someone very important to us – and our siblings in their seats (insert audience laughter) -  who’s taken us in, loved us, and supported and encouraged us to get where we’re standing here tonight; we love you, Dad!” – but they had a long journey getting there.)

 

\---

 

Rich was _smooth_ _af_ whenever he said it, always purposefully throwing it to the wind and acting like it didn’t matter immediately afterwards, glancing around at his family as if to say ‘what?’ Nothing too emotional, always peppered in the middle of casual sentences.

 

That is, until one night forced it to become emotional.

 

-

 

Rich and Jake were not only loving boyfriends, they were also _total bros_. They weren’t like some asshole frat boys, or like those guys on jackass, but they would definitely do a ton of stupid stuff ‘just to see what happens’. All of Jake’s extracurricular equipment was used regularly in Scooby-Doo worthy plans set up in their new seemingly huge backyard, either him or Rich (and sometimes Michael) near-about risking their stupid teenage lives trying to pull off a stunt.

 

The most recent: a handmade skateboard ramp on one side of the pool (oh yeah, did they mentioned they got a _pool_?), and a basketball hoop on the other. Jake kneeled down next to the ramp, doing the best he could at nailing boards in place. Rich stood beside him, shaking with excitement, holding Jake’s skateboard and pointing out places for Jake to put more nails. Michael – who’d gotten himself unhappily roped into this – sat on the grass near them, fiddling with the video camera with uncertainty.

 

“You guys think this is really a good idea?” Michael called to them, looking worriedly at the thrown-together ramp and imagining all that could go wrong.

 

“Totally!” Rich exclaimed, turning to him. “If you’re nervous, just imagine how cool the video is going to be! I’m gonna skateboard off the ramp, basketball in hand,” he ran along the side of the pool, reenacting how they planned the stunt to go, “and then I’ll soar over the pool, pass the net, dunk the ball, and land all cool!” He feigned his landing beside the goal, making fake crowd sounds and throwing his hands into the air with the ‘rock n’ roll’ gesture. “We could, like, put it on youtube!” He shouted.

 

“Aw yeah!” Jake yelled suddenly, matching Rich’s excitement.

 

Michael hummed to himself, looking down to the camera in his hands. “But, what happens if you don’t land it?”

 

“Then I land in the pool!” Rich told him, running over to him and joining him on the grass. “Don’t worry about it, man, we’ve got it all figured out. It’s totally safe!”

 

Michael looked up at him, meeting his eyes and conveying his uncertainty.

 

“Okay, I see your point. If you really think it’s too dangerous, we can try something else.” Rich kept the eye contact steady, hoping that his honesty got across.

 

Michael thought about it for a moment. The whole idea in itself seemed really dangerous, but he had to admit that they had a point about landing in the pool if he couldn’t make it the whole way. Other than that, what could really happen? If the ramp broke, it wouldn’t cause anything but disappointment. Michael decided that if anything did go wrong, it wouldn’t be too serious – and they might still be able to upload it as a ‘fail’ video! “Let’s do it.” Michael told them. “But, just to be safe, put on some pads.” He and Rich jumped up to their feet together and got prepared.

 

Rich stood at the beginning of the ramp, now decked out in safety pads, holding the skateboard and waiting for Michael to give the thumbs up. When he finally got the camera running and Jake threw the thumbs up for him, Rich went for it.

 

The ramp held together, and Rich soared over the pool.

 

And then, in what felt like slow motion, the skateboard and the ball got away from him, landing on the ground.

 

Where Rich did not.

 

Rich flailed mid-air as he realized what was happening, finally hitting the edge of the pool. Michael and Jake only saw the huge splash of water around him, but heard a sickening _crack!_ And Rich went completely under.

 

When Rich didn’t immediately come back up, and a liquid cloud of bright red started swirling to the top of the water, Michael screamed.

 

“Rich!” Jake yelled, but didn’t move. He felt fear grip him like a vice, mind flashing back to the similar terrified feelings of when his house was up in flames and he _couldn’t find Rich_. Snapping back into reality, Jake ran to the pool and dived.

 

He pulled Rich out, and Michael felt like he was going to puke.

 

Rich was flailing around in a crazed state, his mouth making a collection of screams, coughing, and vomiting himself. His nose and arm were definitely broken, both bent in angles humans were _not_ supposed to be and his nose pouring blood. He rolled himself over and onto his stomach, trying to stop the mix of tears, blood, pool water, and bile from staying in his throat. In all the chaos, he found himself in almost a child-like state when all he wanted was _Dad._

So that’s what he started screaming.

 

“Dad!” He screeched, squeezing his eyes shut and spitting everything out of his mouth again. Everything hurt all at once, and he couldn’t handle it. “Dad!” His arm was on fire all over again. “Dad!” He couldn’t breathe, imaginary smoke clogging his lungs. “Dad!” He started coughing.

 

“Richard, Rich, I’m right here.” Mr. Heere’s voice spoke to him, pulling him up into a sitting position in his arms. “It’s okay, we’ve called 911, you just have to wait for the ambulance, it’s okay.” He was hugging him.

 

Rich kept his eyes closed, the pain unbearable. “Dad!” He said again, whimpering. He used his other hand to grab at Mr. Heere’s shirt. “It hurts, oh my god, it hurts.”

 

“I know, I know, but you’ve got to calm down.” Mr. Heere soothed, and Rich could feel his hand on the back of his head.

 

“It, it, it feels like it’s on _fire_.” Rich told him, his voice quieting to a whisper.

 

Mr. Heere was silent, finally understanding. “It’s okay, Rich. You, Jake, and Michael just did some dumb trick in the backyard. You’re not at Jake’s anymore, you’re right here, with us.”

 

“Dad…” Rich whispered, crying into his shoulder. “Don’t let me go.”

 

“I’m not, Rich. I’m not.” Mr. Heere soothed.

 

They all kept waiting for the ambulance.

 

-

 

Rich was miserable in his hospital bed.

 

He couldn’t move around, and the bed and his new cast only continued to remind him of bad memories.

 

But at least his family was there.

 

And his Dad.

 

\---

 

The monster that was a Brooke/Chloe makeout session had now infiltrated Chloe and Jenna’s shared bedroom, so Jenna was forced to hang out somewhere else in the house.

 

She chose to sit comfortably in the kitchen with Mr. Heere, painting some details onto her nails based off a picture she’d found while Mr. Heere cooked dinner.

 

“What’re you painting on there, Jen?” Mr. Heere asked her, taking a break from stirring noodles in the pot and leaning over to get a better look.

 

“Oh, I saw this really cool design I liked online, and I decided to try it myself.” She raised her hand to let him see.

 

“This is really neat, I like it!” Mr. Heere told her, looking over the mixture of pink and purple with a smile. “That takes a lot of talent, you know, to get it so perfect like that.”

 

Jenna blushed the smallest bit, taking her hand back to keep painting it. “It’s not perfect at all, but thanks, Dad.” She laughed.

 

And immediately froze.

 

She stared in embarrassing horror down at her nails, her tiny nailbrush frozen mid-stroke. She could feel the heat in her face increase ten-fold, and when she looked up she was thankful Mr. Heere had turned back around.

 

Of course, Mr. Heere had turned around to hide his ecstatic grin.

 

“I… I mean,” Jenna cleared her throat, going back to painting, “You really like it?”

 

“Sure!” Mr. Heere told her, turning back again and smiling. “I love the colors! I like more greens and blues myself, though. Could you do that to mine?”

 

“Really?!” Jenna yelled, jumping from her seat. “Oh, I am _totally_ interrupting Chloe and Brooke for this! I’ll be right back with the colors!” She ran off, and Mr. Heere could hear her start up the stairs.

 

Mr. Heere turned the heat down on the noodles, letting them start to cool off so Jenna could paint his nails. When she returned, she brought Brooke and Chloe with her.

 

“Jenna said you were letting her paint your nails and we _are not_ missing out!” Chloe declared, dumping the picked-out colors onto the table.

 

As the three debated on which green would fit him best, he just watched on, the pleasant loving feeling in his chest spreading again, filling him with warmth.

 

He really loved having daughters.

 

\---

 

“Jake, do you want to help pass out plates?” Mr. Heere asked him as everyone else went to sit at the dinner table.

 

Jake nodded with enthusiasm and followed him to the food, taking each two plates at a time as they were prepared. Every trip into the dining room he made, he heard snippets of the conversation going on between everyone.

 

“You didn’t win! You _distracted me_!” Jeremy whined, causing everyone around him to laugh.

 

“You shouldn’t have let yourself be distracted, Jeremy.” Chloe told him, her eyes twinkling with laughter.

 

“Oh, so you’re telling me if I started kissing your back while you were playing one of their games I wouldn’t distract you?” Brooke asked deviously, leaning into Chloe and grinning at her.

 

“One. Hundred. Percent.” Chloe bragged, staring back at her as if daring her to do it.

 

“After dinner, then. It’s a challenge for all of us! And we’re going to win!” Rich exclaimed, grabbing Jake’s hand and lifting it in the air champion-style as Jake set a plate in front of him.

 

“Oh please, we’re so going to-” Jake walked back to Mr. Heere before he could hear the rest.

 

The topic had already changed by the time he walked in again, this time it being Christine yelling, “But Dear Evan Hansen is so good!”

 

“I didn’t say it wasn’t good, Chrissie, I said I can hardly stand to watch it. Just thinking of Connor makes me want to cry.” Michael told her.

 

“What? Why?” Brooke asked him, looking to him with concern.

 

“Because he killed himself! He’s dead! Evan keeps talking about these happy memories with him that aren’t real, because he’s dead, which is even more sad, because he’s making up stories he wishes were true, because he’s alone! And Connor was so depressed he _committed suicide_ , which means he was thinking no one would miss him, and then he ends up being kind of right!” Michael gestured wildly with his hands, his eyes starting to really tear up.

 

“Yeah, it makes me cry too, Christine.” Jeremy admitted. “All the anxiety parts make me just… really sad.” He frowned to the table.

 

“It makes everyone sad! That’s the point!” Christine tried, determined to fight for the musical.

 

“We know, and we love it too, but-” and Jake was out again.

 

When he returned, he started to worry about how fast they all changed subjects.

 

“Sharks are innocent! Leave them alone!” Rich was yelling.

 

“Sharks are scary! They kill people!” Brooke yelled back with indignation.

 

“No, he’s right! They’re seem scary up close, but they don’t kill nearly as many people as you’d believe.” Jeremy told them matter-of-factly.

 

“Really?” Chloe spoke up, looking around with disbelief.

 

“Yep! According to the internet, sharks only kill about-” Jenna started reading the facts from her phone.

 

Jake chuckled, telling Mr. Heere “They can’t stay on one topic.” While he grabbed the last two plates, and Mr. Heere took his own.

 

As they both joined the rest at the table, everyone quieted down to enjoy their food.

 

Jake grunted on his first bite. “This tastes great, Dad.” He told Mr. Heere.

 

“Did you just call Mr. Heere ‘Dad’?” Brooke exclaimed, sounding almost like she was trying to verbally nudge at something, but Jake didn’t quite get it. He just blushed and opened his mouth to explain himself, when Christine spoke first.

 

“No, he said ‘this tastes great, _man_.’” Christine giggled, grinning knowingly at Brooke.

 

“Do you see Mr. Heere as a father figure, Dillinger?” Michael asked, looking to Jake with mock seriousness.

 

“No, if anything, he sees Mr. Heere as a brother figure, cause he’s always bothering him.” Rich finished, giggling with the others. When he saw Mr. Heere’s hurt and somewhat confused look, he quickly added, “It’s from a tv show! We didn’t mean that.”

 

Jake and Mr. Heere laughed along with them all, and Jake was secretly very pleased they had offered the distraction.

 

\---

 

They had somehow convinced Mr. Heere to play Mario Kart with them.

 

He didn’t really know a ton about the characters, but Michael convinced him to play as Bowser, because “He’s totally a dad. He’s a mean, spiky dad, but a dad nonetheless.”

 

Which made Jeremy immediately shout, “The koopalings aren’t his kids!”

 

“Do you really want to go there with me, Jeremiah?” Michael snapped back at him, grinning when he added, “Also, don’t just throw Bowser Jr. away like that! He deserves love, too!”

 

“Reppin’ for my man, BJ!” Rich whooped as he changed his character to him on-screen.

 

“Rich, babe, please never call Bowser Jr. a blowjob again.” Jake laughed.

 

“In front of our own father!” Rich yelled, pretending to faint on him.

 

Everyone giggled as they started up the race, Michael briefly explaining the controls to Mr. Heere before it began.

 

As the game went on, they all watched in amused horror as Mr. Heere _destroyed them all_.

 

“Oh, my god.” Jeremy stared at the screen, defeated.

 

“How?!” Michael asked, exasperated.

 

“Nice going, Dad.” Chloe chuckled, and everyone turned to glance at her.

 

She tried to maintain the same confidence Rich had whenever he said it, shrugging it off, but everyone could see the bright pink blush dusting her cheeks.

 

“I don’t even know how I did it,” Mr. Heere broke the short silence, “We’ll have to play again to test it out.”

 

While everyone turned back to the game in excitement, Mr. Heere turned to give Chloe a reassuring smile that no one else could see.

 

\---

 

Michael was feeling off today.

 

He stared himself down in the mirror, his eyes trailing over his body. He had stripped off his hoodie, leaving it sat on the sink so he could look at his arms. He lifted up his shirt to peek at his belly. He wished he would start working out, then he could gain some muscle. Jeremy might like it, too.

 

He turned around to look at his butt, poking at it. His hands moved down to start poking at his legs instead.

 

He moved his hands to the waistband of his pants to pull them off, when the door opened.

 

“Michael! I’m sorry, were you about to use the bathroom?” Mr. Heere asked, setting the cleaning supplies down on the sink. He looked him over, concern started to grow in his eyes when he saw the discarded jacket on the sink. It was a rare sight to see Michael Mell without his jacket on.

 

“No, I was just leaving.” Michael sighed, collecting his hoodie and starting to walk past Mr. Heere.

 

“You look really handsome today, son.” Mr. Heere told him gently.

 

Michael looked up at him, unshed tears in his eyes.

 

“Thanks, Dad.” He smiled.

 

Mr. Heere smiled back.

 

\---

 

Mr. Heere had only come down for a glass of water.

 

Instead, he found Christine sitting alone in the kitchen, crying and holding a picture in her hands. An open carton of ice cream sat next to her on the counter, a spoon sticking out of it.

 

He walked up and reached for her shoulder, trying his best not to scare the girl. Well, he tried not to.

 

“Oh!” Christine jumped at the contact. “Mr. Heere! Sorry, I’m sorry, you scared me.” She explained, sniffling.

 

Mr. Heere nodded and looked down at the picture in her hands. An older lady and a younger Christine smiled brightly back at him, both of their faces messy from a shared carton of ice cream.

 

“Is this your grandmother?” Mr. Heere asked, pointing to the picture.

 

Christine just nodded, sniffling again. “Yeah, this is from my ninth birthday party. No one came, and to cheer me up, Gran started an ice cream food fight with me.” She chuckled lightly at the picture, running her thumb over her grandmother’s face. “She would always do such sweet things like that.” She told him, her voice wavering with tears.

 

“Tell me about her.” Mr. Heere recommended.

 

“You… wouldn’t mind?” Christine asked, looking up to meet his eyes.

 

“Not at all, sweetheart. I can make us some tea, and we can both share this melted ice cream.” He laughed, nodding towards the carton.

 

“Alright,” Christine wiped her eyes with her sleeve, “that sounds good.”

 

Mr. Heere made them both their cups, and grabbed another spoon to eat the ice cream with. Christine went on for a long time about her memories with her grandma, but he didn’t mind. By the end of it, she really looked like she felt better.

 

“That sounds amazing.” Mr. Heere told her, scooping another spoonful from the carton.

 

“Yeah, she was great.” Christine sighed, gazing down at the picture once again. Without looking up, she added, “You’re great too, Dad.” and stood to wrap her arms around him.

 

Mr. Heere hugged her back tightly, trying his best to stop his own small tears from falling before Christine could see them.

 

\---

 

With Brooke, it was a completely different approach.

 

Earlier that day, Mr. Heere had promised her that they could bake this homemade dessert after dinner, as it was one of Brooke’s favorites and she hadn’t had it in a long time.

 

So now, here they were, Mr. Heere adding flour and stirring a bowl Brooke had instructed him to. Brooke herself was managing a different part of the treat, and Mr. Heere wasn’t sure what it was, but he hoped Brooke enjoyed it.

 

“Alright, just need to… there. And… there.” She mumbled to herself as she self-measured the ingredients.

 

Mr. Heere got done stirring his bowl, handing it off to her so she could add hers to his.

 

“Okay! We can pour it in a pan, and put it in now!” She laughed light-heartedly, smiling at the goopy creation.

 

Mr. Heere grabbed a pan from the cabinet and held it in place for her as she poured it in. “Smells good.” He admitted.

 

“Just wait until it’s baking!” She giggled, her excitement clear on her face.

 

She put it in the oven, set the timer, and wiped her brow. “If you’re not going to lick the bowl, I definitely am.” She told Mr. Heere, grabbing said bowl and holding it to her with her arm.

 

Mr. Heere snagged a small bit from the bowl with his finger, and tasted the concoction. “Mhm! This is good, Brooke!” He laughed as she did. “I didn’t even know you knew how to bake until tonight.” He admitted to her, leaning against the counter.

 

“Well, only kind of.” She shrugged her shoulders. “My mother used to cook this a lot when I was a kid, and she showed me how.” Mr. Heere nodded in understanding, opening his mouth again to ask her if she wanted to wait for it in the living room, when she spoke up again.

 

 

“Can I call you Dad?” She asked, voice almost timid.

 

“I… of course you can.” He told her, looking to her in near concern. He hadn’t really expected Brooke to ever call him that, as she had been one of the ones with both parents beforehand, and she’d been pretty close with them before they’d disowned her. If she was only ever comfortable calling him “Mr. Heere”, he would have respected that.

 

Before he could ask her why, she interrupted again.

 

“Cool. I’m going to go wait and hang out in the living room, Dad.” She told him happily, and walked right out.

 

He watched her leave, dumbfounded but happy.

 

After a minute or so of standing there, he walked to living room doorway to see all his kids together in front of it yet again, watching what looked to be an older Godzilla movie.

 

He didn’t know how many times he’d already secretly watched them all with content, but it made him so happy that he didn’t care how many times he’d done it.

 

He loved them all so much.


	7. "Our Scars Remind Us..."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw: scars? talking a lot about scars &... yeah

Rich hadn’t moved for a little over two hours.

 

Jeremy was starting to get worried.

 

Rich was on the floor of their shared bedroom, laying on his stomach next to his bed, his arms crossed and head laying there. After a rash of suddenly wearing longer sleeves out, he had decided to change into one of his old tank tops (which, let’s be honest, was a t-shirt with the sleeves cut off) and just… chill on the floor.

 

Jeremy opened a new tab on his laptop and typed nonsense into the search bar so it sounded like he wasn’t staring directly at Rich with increasing worry. He hadn’t seen his friend move so little since he was under the influence of the-supercomputer-who-shall-not-be-named. He wondered if Rich’s Squip was back in his head, taunting him with lame insults again… but, if it was, he would have already grabbed one of the bottles of mountain dew red from the mini fridge kept right there in their room, so it couldn’t be that.

 

He almost jumped when Rich’s thumb started moving, slowly going over some of the burn scarring on his arm.

 

He finally broke his gaze, turning back to his laptop and staring at it in thought. He wanted to figure out how to get the real Rich back – the happy, bubbly, constantly-moving, always surprising Rich. He missed him.

 

“Hey, Rich,” Jeremy started as he pushed his laptop aside on the bed, “I’m gonna go grab myself a snack. You want something?”

 

Rich lifted his head to meet Jeremy’s eyes for a fraction of a second before looking straight ahead. “Nah, I’m good. Thanks, though.”

 

Jeremy hesitated in his movement, not sure if he should ask Rich about how tired his eyes looked.

 

“Okay,” He let out, “I’ll be right back.”

 

-

 

When Jeremy got to the kitchen, he grabbed his own snack and began hunting down what he knew Rich liked. With so many kids and so many groceries, it was hard to remember where exactly everything was – especially if _some_ people hid their snacks to keep from sharing.

 

He was in the middle of digging through his third cabinet when a pair of arms sliding around his waist made him jump.

 

“Michael!” Jeremy yelled, immediately easing into his boyfriend’s touch when he recognized him. “You scared me.” He laughed.

 

“That was the point.” Michael told him, snickering into his ear. The two shared a quiet moment before Michael let him go, moving to get a better view into the currently open cabinet. “What’re you looking for?”

 

“Rich’s comfort snacks.” Jeremy admitted, reaching his arms back in to keep exploring. “He’s in this… _funk_ in our room.” He held up a box and frowned.

 

Michael opened a cabinet two down from Jeremy’s and pulled out the hidden box of Rice Krispies. Waving them at Jeremy, he asked, “What’s up with him?”

 

“I’m not sure,” Jeremy admitted, “You know how he’s been wearing long sleeves a lot lately? Well, he randomly changed back into one of his sleeveless shirts and just _laid down on the floor_.” Jeremy scrunched his eyebrows in confusion, eyes unfocused in remembrance.

 

“Like this?” Michael asked, hopping onto the kitchen island and laying on his back, holding his hands together at his stomach and tapping his fingers, starting to whistle.

 

“No.” Jeremy told him, trying to deadpan his answer, but his smile fought its way through as he looked to Michael’s beaming face.

 

“Oh.” Michael said simply, face becoming akin to the slant-face emoticon. “Then, like this?” He rolled around onto his stomach, folding his arms and resting his head, facing Jeremy.

 

“Yeah, but face-down.” Jeremy told him, voice serious.

 

“Oh.” Michael repeated. He hopped down and nodded to his boyfriend. “That’s serious.”

 

“I know.” Jeremy nodded back. “You want to go up and try to cheer him up with me?”

 

Michael solemnly nodded once more, before turning and reaching into the fridge for a bottle of store-brand strawberry milk Rich had grown attached to recently – he’d had it with breakfast every morning for the past _month_.

 

“Mission: Cheer Up Richard is a go.”

 

-

 

“Yo, Richie!” Michael greeted, and Rich heard muffled footsteps stop at his side. He picked his head up again to smile a small bit at Michael, but moved to sit up completely when he saw that the footsteps had stopped next to him because both Michael and Jeremy had plopped down on the floor with him.

 

“I told you, only Jakey calls me that.” He laughed, before eyeing the food set in between the three of them. “You brought me snacks, too?”

 

“Yep! One box o’ rainbow sprinkle rice krispies, and one bottle o’ weird store-brand strawberry milk.” Michael told him, shoving the items at him more in hopes he would take them. “Just for you, pal.”

 

Rich laughed again, this time truly. He gladly accepted the offering, opening the milk and taking a chug. “Thank you.” He smirked, raising his arm to wipe away his new milk-stache before pausing, his arm held in midair and his eyes glued to it.

 

The other boys sat in awkward silence, sharing a worried glance with each other before Jeremy spoke up. “Rich?” He questioned. “What’s up?”

 

Rich snapped out of whatever trance he’d been in, lowering his arm and moving to use his shirt instead. “Nothing,” he shrugged, “Just enjoying my strawberry milk. I don’t think anyone pegged me as a ‘strawberry’ kind of guy before, but I like it a lot more than the others.” He offered, trying to distract them.

 

“That is because you haven’t tried the _good_ flavors.” Michael took the bait, lowering his head to give Rich a pitying look.

 

“No, just because you and Chloe like some weird milk flavors no one else has ever heard of, doesn’t mean the normal ones aren’t good.” Jeremy chided him.

 

“I didn’t say they weren’t good!” Michael demanded, putting a hand to his chest in faux shock.

 

“Yes, you did, you said Rich hasn’t tried the “good” flavors,” Jeremy gave annoyed air-quotes, “which implies that plain, chocolate, and strawberry aren’t good.”

 

“Well, that’s not what I meant. I am a fan of chocolate, myself. Besides, you just say that because you’re a Plain Jane who likes plain milk.” Michael stuck his tongue out at him.

 

“He’s right. I mean, who else likes just plain milk?” Rich wondered aloud, laughing as Jeremy became more and more flustered.

 

“Everyone, with their cereal!” Jeremy yelled, crossing his arms and tipping his chin triumphantly.

 

“Not those people who eat their cereal with orange juice.” Michael brought up, shivering. “What horror.”

 

The three boys shared a quick laugh, before Michael grew serious once again.

 

“Okay, back to Rich. What’s going on with you, man?” Michael asked, looking him in the eyes with all the sincerity he could.

 

“Nothing.” Rich sighed, looking down. “It’s just…” He raised his arms to look at them again, rotating them to see every bit. “My scars.” He finally admitted.

 

“Your scars?” Jeremy asked, looking down to look them over with Rich. “What about your scars?”

 

Rich hugged himself, running his hands up and down the scars on his upper arms. “They hurt.”

 

Jeremy and Michael simultaneously snapped their eyes back to his, worry taking over the both of them.

 

“They hurt? Why didn’t you say something before? How do they hurt?” Michael’s words came out in a rush, his own hands wringing at his sides as he didn’t know if he should reach out to him.

 

“Not always.” Rich let his arms go, his hands making a small sound as they fell into his lap. “The sun makes them feel… weird. Like a bunch of tiny intense pokes.”

 

“Is that why you’ve been wearing the long sleeves more?” Michael questioned him, frowning.

 

“Yeah.” Rich confessed, a tiny silence following before he added quietly, “Plus, I hate them.”

 

Michael suddenly pulled off his hoodie and threw it to the floor next to him. He held out his own arms in the center of their small circle above the snacks, showing off the pale white and pink lines scattered across them. “Scars don’t have to dictate anything about you, Rich. They only show where you’ve been.” He nearly whispered, letting Rich take one of his arms and run his hand purposefully over the raised skin.

 

“That’s nice, but it’s not the same for me.” Rich sighed, raising his arm with the most scarring and holding it in comparison to Michael’s. “ _I did this_.” He used his eyes to point to his raised arm.

 

“You think a cat really made mine?” Michael asked, throwing it out as a light joke. “I did this, too. And like I said, even if we did, we can still move past it. Now it’s just a reminder of what we’ve been through, and what we’ve overcome.”

 

“Yeah, mine’s a constant reminder of what I’ve been through. And what I’ve been through is becoming a bully, ruining someone’s life, and then setting my gay crush’s house on fire while it was full of people, and left him with nowhere to live.” Rich scowled to himself, bringing his arms back in to hug himself again.

 

“Rich, come on, you-” Michael tried to intervene.

 

“I set his house on fire, and then I set _myself_ on fire. Do you know how terrifying that is? My arms and my back were in _literal flames_ , and now – now I can’t even handle goddamn candles! All I have to do is look down and be reminded of how much I fucked everything up!” Rich kept going, his eyes starting to tear up.

 

“Rich-” Michael tried again, his hand reaching for him.

 

“Constantly _fucking_ reminding me-”

 

“Rich!” Jeremy suddenly interrupted. “You want to talk about _constant reminders_?”

 

Before either of them knew it, Jeremy had spun around so his back was facing them, and yanked off his t-shirt.

 

Revealing huge scars that ran down his back and the beginning of his shoulders like lightning, knotted, red mixed with pink and white, and angry-looking.

 

“What the hell happened?” Michael whispered, his voice coming out oddly calm with only a slight edge.

 

Jeremy sighed and lowered his head, not wanting to meet their eyes. “The Squip,” he took a deep breath, and released it again, “it would… it would shock me when I didn’t do something right.”

 

He heard Rich and Michael’s breath hitch, he’s pretty sure he heard Rich start actually crying, and felt Michael’s gaze keep on him intensely.

 

“Is this why you haven’t taken your shirt off around me?” Michael asked him, the edge in his voice growing. “It’s been _months_ , Jeremy, when were you going to tell me?”

 

Before Jeremy could stop it, he felt himself start to tear up as well. “I didn’t want to talk about it,” He bit out, his own voice starting to waver, “I… Like Rich said, constant reminders.” He left it at that, sniffling.

 

Michael stayed quiet, but Rich started openly crying harder. “It _shocked_ you?! That, that has to count as torture! That’s classical conditioning! Jeremy, I’m… I’m so _sorry._ ”

 

Jeremy turned back around in an instant, reaching his hand out to rub Rich’s shoulder. “No! No, Rich, you didn’t know it would do that. It’s okay, Rich, it’s not your fault.”

 

“Turn back around.” Michael finally spoke again, demanding.

 

Jeremy did so slowly, squeezing his eyes shut in terrified anxiety. He half expected Michael to be disgusted, half expected him to be mad with him all over again. The tears started falling on his cheeks, and he found himself tensing for what he believed was about to come.

 

He jumped when a cool hand met the warm scarred skin at the bottom of his back.

 

“Relax.” Michael ordered quietly.

 

Jeremy did so as best he could, still twitching the smallest bit away from the hand when it began to move upward. Soon, Michael’s other hand joined in and Jeremy let Michael physically map out the area.

 

“Does yours hurt?” Rich suddenly asked him.

 

Jeremy was silent for a moment, thinking it over. “Yeah. But it’s more like phantom pains than actually hurting. My back’s not really been exposed to the sun recently, so I don’t know if it would hurt like yours.” He explained, gasping when Michael rubbed at the scarring closest to his neck. Michael’s hands kept rubbing the smallest bit, only what Jeremy would be comfortable with right now, moving out from the sensitive part at the base of his neck to where the scars ended shortly at his shoulders, Jeremy’s breath hitching again. He moved his hands over Jeremy’s shoulders completely, starting to pull him down and scooting backwards until Jeremy’s head was in his lap.

 

“Do you not trust me?” He whispered, staring carefully down at Jeremy’s face.

 

“I trust you.” Jeremy whispered back solidly, his eyes tearing up again.

 

“You didn’t with this.” Michael pointed out.

 

“I…” Jeremy started, looking anywhere but at his boyfriend’s concerned face. “I hurt you so much. I will always remember it, and how awful I became, and how forgiving you are – even when I don’t deserve it.” He closed his eyes. “I didn’t want to burden you with any more.”

 

After a beat of silence, Michael laughed softly. “You don’t burden me, Jeremiah. Ever. I love you.” He moved to rake his hands through Jeremy’s hair, turning his face to Rich, who had sat patiently throughout their little display. “That goes for you too, Rich. I love you.” He offered him a smile, but it quickly went away, replaced with Michael stammering. “I, I mean, obviously not in the same way.” He laughed wholeheartedly, before sighing and reaching over to put his other hand on Rich’s knee encouragingly. “It is like I said; our scars, no matter _how_ we got them, are from the past. They are a reminder of what we’ve been through, how we _fought_ and _won_. Life did not bring us down, boys. We are still here, we are still alive. Our scars are _proof_.” He told them.

 

The boys all sat in silence, starting to breathe easy again with belief in what Michael taught.

 

“You mean we’re still _heere_?” Jeremy interrupted it, smiling up at his love.

 

“Jesus, Jeremy.”


	8. Roommates (pt 1)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! I would like to deeply apologize for the long wait!! My parents have been trying to buy a house, but we live in a popular area, so it's kinda hard. We've (my sibling and I) been having to stay with family members until the house they finally got permits us to move in. So, long story short, we've been without wifi for about a month and a half, while sometimes visiting places with wifi, so I could update. We haven't gotten to go anywhere for a while, which is why this chapter is coming in so late, but it's finally here! The next time I update (which should be in the next week!!), expect a few chapters at once to make up for the absence!! 
> 
> Thank you for understanding, and sticking through, and leaving so many nice comments!! Again, I greatly appreciate them all!!!!!!!!! <3

The thing about sharing a bedroom is that you get very close with whoever you are sharing with.

 

Especially when you’re both fucked up from a supercomputer messing around in your brain and you’re trying desperately to hide it, especially from your boyfriends.

 

Through their time living in the same house and sharing the same bedroom, Jeremy and Rich’s brotherly relationship would grow strong and fierce. They did, however, have a lot to go through to help build that relationship.

 

\---

 

“You think we should get bunk beds?” Rich’s voice asked through the dark.

 

Jeremy’s sheets ruffled as he turned in his bed, rolling over to face his friend.

 

“Why would we get bunk beds?” He asked back, his voice slurring the slightest bit from how tired he was.

 

“Because they’re cool as hell?” Rich tried, and Jeremy smiled at the grin in his voice.

 

“Who would get top?” He asked, bringing an arm to prop his head up.

 

“Um, me, obviously. I always top.” Rich told him, giggling like a little kid.

 

Jeremy groaned.

 

“You would fall off the bed constantly, and you know it. We can’t afford anymore hospital trips, Rich.” He joked, hoping he didn’t accidentally go too far.

 

“I wouldn’t fall off _that_ much.” Rich shot back.

 

“You would totally fall that much. You would try to hang upside down from the top like a sloth, and you know it.” Jeremy laughed, getting louder as he heard Rich sit up in his bed and cross his arms with a huff.

 

“Yeah, I would, and you know what, Jerry? It would be fun.” Rich stuck his tongue out in Jeremy’s general direction.

 

Jeremy chuckled and went to completely lay down again, rolling over to face the wall. “Goodnight, Rich.” He dismissed him.

 

A heavy silence swallowed them up, and Jeremy felt sleep start to take him when Rich whispered, “I can’t sleep.”

 

Jeremy tried not to outwardly sigh, not wanting to make Rich think he was annoyed, and sat up in his own bed. “You can’t sleep, or don’t want to?”

 

Rich cringed and started bouncing his leg with anxiety. “Don’t want to.” He admitted.

 

“That’s fine, man,” Jeremy told him calmly, “what do you want to do instead?”

 

Rich fell silent again. He hadn’t expected Jeremy to do that, and he didn’t know what he wanted to do instead at all. It was late.

 

“Can… can we just talk? Damn thing won’t shut up.” He whispered again, looking down to where his hands would be in the dark.

 

He heard Jeremy’s sheets move around and stop as Jeremy got out of his bed. What was he doing? Had Rich made him mad? Did he not want to talk about the Squip?

 

Jeremy’s face, along with about half the room, was illuminated with a soft yellow light as he opened the stocked mini-fridge and pulled out two bottles of mountain dew red. He closed the door with a soft click and stalked over to Rich’s bed. “Scoot over.” He said softly.

 

Rich did so, gladly accepting the Red from Jeremy’s hand. He opened it and chugged half the bottle right then, breathing heavily with both exhaustion and relief.

 

“Is it gone?” Jeremy’s voice asked.

 

A small silence, and then, “For now.”

 

Rich felt Jeremy move beside him as he opened his own bottle and took a gulp.

 

“Thanks, bro.” Rich laughed dryly, trying desperately to stop his bouncing leg that rubbed against Jeremy’s, not wanting to annoy him.

 

“You can move, Rich. I’m not bothered.” Jeremy told him, as if he could read his mind.

 

Could he?

 

Rich blew the thought away with a small chuckle and let his leg resume bouncing – slightly.

 

“Isn’t it weird?” Rich asked him.

 

“Isn’t what weird?” Jeremy asked back, bringing his own legs up on the bed to hug them.

 

“You’re, like, a brother to me now.” Rich said quietly. “I mean, not ‘like a brother’. You are my brother.”

 

“How do you do that?” Jeremy suddenly questioned, his voice turning into a revealing honesty.

 

“Do what, Jeremy?” Rich asked.

 

“Be so loving. I mean, I love too, but you’re so _open_ about it in a way I just can’t be.” Jeremy sighed into his knees. “You were the first to call Dad ‘Dad’, you have no hesitation is explaining your sexuality, you don’t care who sees you kissing and loving on Jake – both intense and not. You’re just so loving and nice, and I can’t offer the same to Michael. I can hardly even offer it to you guys, or Dad.”

 

Rich huffed in amusement. “You don’t have to, Jeremy. You’re not me, and I’m not you. I express things a bit… _intensely_.” He paused to let them both chuckle. “And you express them quieter, with more control. Both is fine.”

 

“Both. Both is good.” Jeremy laughed quietly, quoting the old movie he and Michael used to watch together.

 

As Rich took another, albeit smaller, gulp from his drink, Jeremy spoke up again. “You’re my brother, too.”

 

“I never expected… this.” Rich admitted, and Jeremy felt his hand move to gesture around in the air. “I was such an _asshole_ to you, and to Michael, and you’ve both forgiven me, and Dad adopted me, and I still don’t feel like I deserve any of it. But, every time I start to think that, there you are. Any of you. And you all help me through. I love you, man.” He admitted, leaning in to nudge Jeremy’s shoulder with his own.

 

Jeremy laughed in turn, his head turning to face Rich more on his knees. “I never imagined this, either. Not for a million years. I especially never thought I’d be with Michael.”

 

“Really? Not even a little bit?” Rich questioned, his eyebrows raised in disbelief.

 

“I mean, looking back, I’ve totally loved him for a long time.” He laughed a small bit. “What’s not to love? But… I never saw it, I never realized. I wish I had, but I didn’t.” In a sudden realization, he laughed again, this time sounding more wry. “Dude, I just realized how much my Mom would hate it… I’m going to marry him.” He said, determined. Rich wanted to laugh, but his thoughts nagged at him.

 

“Your… your mom?” He asked shyly.

 

“Yeah. Linda.” Jeremy answered simply.

 

“To be honest with you, I thought your mom was dead.” Rich admitted. He didn’t expect Jeremy’s answer.

 

“She is to us.” Jeremy bit out.

 

A heavy silence followed, and Rich swallowed his fear and asked away.

 

“Why?”

 

Jeremy sighed heavily and let his legs fall to dangle over the side of the bed. “She was awful. I mean, she wasn’t like your… biological dad, and I’m not trying to say she was, no way, but she…” His sentence trailed off.

 

“You don’t have to talk about it, man. I didn’t mean to pressure you.” Rich told him solidly.

 

“She would slap Dad.” Jeremy rushed out. “They would fight constantly, like everything Dad did was wrong, and I would hide in my room and just wait for it to blow over. Dad would always pretend like it never even happened – raised on that big, tough-guy bullshit, you know. He would only say anything when she…”

 

“Jeremy,-”

 

“She would constantly tell me how worthless I was. How I needed to take up sports, wear cleaner clothes, don’t act so nerdy, don’t cry, fight back, do this, do that, don’t be a _freak_.” Rich noticed Jeremy was shaking, and he reached to put a hand on his shoulder. “I let her do it, too. I just took it. I thought if I didn’t, she’s slap me, too. And I didn’t want that… that mean sound I’d hear to be inflicted on me. It sounded painful.” Another quiet, and he kept going. “I… I believed her. I still do. But, like you said, whenever it gets bad, I have you guys, even if I don’t deserve it, and Michael, who I really don’t deserve, and Dad – do you know how awful I treated Dad when Mom left? I, I…” He let the sentence go to start wiping at his eyes.

 

“Jeremy, you deserve good things.” Rich told him, his voice quiet but solid.

 

“And you’re _good things_?” Jeremy offered, the tension rolling off the two like waves.

 

“I am great things, Jeremiah Heere, and so are you.” Rich said triumphantly, nudging at him again, this time a bit too rough, as Jeremy collectively fell off the bed.

 

“Shit!” Jeremy hissed as he fell, only to break into a huge fit of laughter as he curled up on the floor.

 

Rich laid back down on his bed, setting his bottle on the ground beside it. When Jeremy straightened out and didn’t make a move, Rich started poking at him.

 

“You going to sleep on the floor, bro?” He got out between small giggles.

 

“Yeah, bro. I’m going to sleep right here, bro. You can’t stop me, bro.” Jeremy giggled with him.

 

They kept going, both throwing in as many ‘bro’s as possible, until they both comfortably fell asleep.

 

\---

 

Rich had been scrolling through tumblr for what felt like hours.

He’d already reblogged most of Jenna’s posts, liked a few photosets Christine had reblogged, liked Chloe and Brooke’s outfit-of-the-day posts, and was now scrolling through his dashboard hoping for something interesting to pass by.

 

It was late, sure, but he relished in his freedom to stay up late simply because he felt like it, and not because of a stupid darkly-veiled computer frog. He idly liked another post, and kept scrolling with his thumb.

 

Jeremy, however, had gone to sleep. He’d seemed kind of off the whole day, and had went to bed early, so Rich went with him. He made sure Jeremy felt that he wasn’t alone if he needed to vent about anything, just as they had let each other know that one night a few weeks ago. Alas, he had simply let the sheets swallow him and fell asleep. Rich made sure to sit angled where the light of his phone wouldn’t shine on Jeremy, and wouldn’t wake him from his sleep.

 

Rich had clicked on someone’s blog to check out if he should follow them, when he heard a mumble from the other bed.

 

He went still, trying to listen in. When he heard the mumble again, he sat up and clicked the lamp from his bedside table on, thankful when it didn’t wake Jeremy.

 

Until he finally heard what Jeremy was mumbling.

 

The boy thrashed a small bit in his sheets, body turning to face Rich. He noticed the sweat coming from him, and grew worried that Jeremy had gotten sick again. Then, Jeremy said it again: “Terrible.”

 

Rich didn’t get it at first. What was terrible?

 

Jeremy’s hands balled tightly into fists at his sides, and he muttered out, “Makes me wanna die.”

 

Rich watched him in shock, not knowing exactly what he should do. He… he should get Michael. Michael would know what to do, he always did.

 

Suddenly Jeremy tensed violently in his sleep, as if something was happening, but Rich still couldn’t quite piece it together. It happened again, Jeremy letting out a soft “ow!” and, to Rich’s horror, started to cry.

 

“I don’t deserve to live.”

 

Rich was at his side in an instant, uncertainty be damned. “Jeremy, wake up.” He shook him, cringing when he tensed up again, adding another “ow!”

 

Suddenly, it clicked. The Squip. The stupid thing was shocking him in his dreams.

 

“Jeremy.” Rich tried again. “Bro, wake up.” He tried the nickname-slash-title the two had taken to calling each other. “Jeremy!”

 

Finally, Jeremy shot up in his bed, pulling away from Rich’s touch like a startled animal.

 

“Hey, bro, it’s just me. It was just a nightmare.” He spoke calmly, meeting his eyes.

 

Jeremy nodded to show he understood, but he was still shaking, and the tears hadn’t stopped.

 

“You want me to go get Michael?” Rich asked him. Jeremy took a minute, thinking it over. Rich went ahead and started for the door, thinking that he knew what the answer was going to be.

 

Until Jeremy, voice barely there, simply told him, “Stay.”

 

Rich turned back around to look at him and make sure that’s what he really wanted. Jeremy met his eyes and his shaking hands started pulling at threads in his blanket. “Please.” He whispered.

 

Rich couldn’t deny that. So, he went and pulled out a bottle of Red, handed it to Jeremy, and sat on the floor next to his bed.

 

“Whatever you need, _little_ bro.”

 

\---

 

It was a well-known fact: Rich had nightmares.

 

Who wouldn’t have nightmares after a supercomputer manipulated you into someone you couldn’t recognize, and ultimately tried to kill you via house fire?

 

So, when Rich suddenly woke him by screaming in his sleep, he instantly went to wake him.

 

“Rich.” Jeremy shook him sluggishly, growing more intent with each second that passed. He knew that if Rich woke up the whole house, he’d feel super guilty about it – even though it was completely true that no one minded at all, he wanted to save Rich the bad-feelings-trip.

 

“Rich!” He finally jostled him into awareness, hoping to just sit with him and calm him down again (and completely willing to do so), when Rich tumbled out of his bed and onto the floor, curling into a ball and grabbing at his hair, holding his arms and upper body so that no fabric touched them.

 

“It _burns_.” He panted through clenched teeth. “I can’t, I can’t take it, it _fucking burns_.”

 

Jeremy watched his adopted brother continue to write in agony for another moment, before running out of the room.

 

He went as fast as he could, but each second felt like too long. He could hear Rich’s almost-screams of agony from the bottom of the stairs, and he felt his heart break as he continued with his plan.

 

Finally, he finished and got back to their room, shutting the door closed behind him.

 

“Richard, look at me.” He always hated using Rich’s full name, as almost every time someone did it, he flinched away from them, but Rich wasn’t going to listen otherwise.

 

Rich moved to sit up, yanking off his shirt and pajama pants, sitting and keeping eye contact with Jeremy in his boxer shorts. Jeremy found himself having almost no problem with it, actually, the only thing about it was the small joke he wanted to offer Rich about what their boyfriends might think in the morning.

 

However, he kept it in and held up the bag in his hands. “Hold out your hand.” He instructed.

 

Rich listened to him, offering his open and shaking palm.

 

Jeremy fished out one of the many pieces of ice from the bag, quickly placing it in the offered hand. “Squeeze it.” He instructed.

 

Rich looked to him with uncertainty, but did it anyway. He gasped at the cold starting to take his hand, and the water from how it was melting starting to drip on the floor. He held the ice cube high above his head, letting the water dibble down his arm, over his scars, and for whatever unknown reason, the cool water calmed him so much he felt like crying again.

 

Jeremy pressed another into his other hand, and he copied his action from before.

 

Rich got through quite a few ice cubes before he decided he was okay for the night. Jeremy zipped close the now half-empty bag and handed it to Rich so he could do what he wished with the cold.

 

“How’d you think of that?” Rich asked him as he laid on the floor, pressing the ice-pack to his chest.

 

Jeremy laid beside him, mirroring his position. “It’s a self-harm alternative. Michael used to do it.” He explained, yawning as he lay.

 

Rich nodded, enjoying the amicable silence and watching Jeremy fall asleep again, feeling comfortable enough to let sleep start to take him again, when Jeremy whispered mischievously.

 

“Wonder what Michael and Jake are gonna think tomorrow morning.”


	9. Roommates (pt 2)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shoutout to TheFandomPool! Their comment has inspired a little line said in this chapter, so look out for that! ;)

You know, they say sharing a bedroom with someone makes you grow to hate them over time.

 

Jake and Michael have no idea who ‘they’ are, but they knew that whatever ‘they’ said was bullshit.

 

\---

 

“Is Jeremy really a furry?”

 

Michael looked up from his game of plants vs zombies on his phone to give Jake the most offended face he could manage.

 

“You can’t just ask a man if his boyfriend is ‘really a furry’, Dillinger.” He told him, adding a scoff.

 

“He is, isn’t he?” Jake answered himself, sitting up straighter in his designated bean bag. “How does that stuff even work? I don’t get it, I mean, don’t you get fur everywhere? Is it itchy? I – what about-”

 

“Jeremy _isn’t_ a furry, Jake. Do dolphins have fur?” Michael asked, not looking up to see his reaction to add to the effect. He did, however, show his phone one of his best shit-eating grins.

 

“What the hell does that make him, then?” Jake’s hands flew up from his sides in Michael’s peripheral vision. “I’ve never heard of anything other than furries!”

 

“No offense, Jake, my man, but you hardly hear of _anything_.” Michael laughed.

 

“I do too! Just because Rich had to teach me how to dab doesn’t mean shit, Mike.” Jake demanded, and Michael could see him put his hands on his hips as best he could in the beanbag chair.

 

“Rich taught you to dab and you did it for two full months before someone had the heart to tell you how fucking cringey it was.” Michael laughed, still not looking up at him. “You can’t deny it, man, you are a pure and innocent soul.” Michael decided he wasn’t finished his lighthearted pokes, so he continued. “Like, _Christine_ knows more than you do. That’s sad.” Michael paused, his grin growing as he dared himself to say the next part, “You genuinely like Carly Rae Jepsen music, dude.”

 

If Michael had decided to look up at Jake and face him like a man while making such taunts, he would have seen it when Jake rolled off the bean bag and chucked the entire thing straight at him.

 

Michael fell back with an _oof_ and dropped his phone to the floor, costing him his game level. When Jake was sure he hadn’t hurt him, he started yelling defiantly, “For the last time, yes, I do like Call Me Maybe! Alright, I like Carly Rae Jepsen! She has a pretty voice! Sue me!”

 

Michael struggled on his bed under the huge bean bag, turning and wriggling to lay with his feet on the wall and his head hanging off the bed, finally meeting Jake’s eyes.

 

The two burst into laughter.

 

“I will get Jeremy to avenge me.” Michael promised, giggling.

 

“And I will get Rich to be my bodyguard.” Jake promised back, his own giggling increasing the more Michael giggled.

 

“Rich would be, like, a top-notch bodyguard.” Michael told Jake, resting his arms in an awkward beanbag-hug.

 

“He’s top-notch in everything he does.” Jake sighed, coming off his laughter. “Top-notch at coming up with other names for Rice Krispies.” His looked to Michael again, eyes glistening with their familial inside joke.

 

“Would you like a… blue bar?” Michael imitated, offering an invisible Rice Krispie treat to Jake, who accepted.

 

“I would, Rich. Thank you, hon. I love you.” He continued, pretending to unwrap and take a bite of his treat.

 

“Aww, that’s just sweet.” Michael smiled at him. “Rich loves you too.” He offered him an upside-down thumbs up.

 

“Well, Jeremy is top-notch at stuff too, like… making you blush.” Jake burst into another fit of laughter when his simply saying so made Michael blush.

 

“I can’t help it!” Michael groaned. “This morning, he got Brooke to help him pin the hair out of his face so it wouldn’t bother him while he was trying to focus on our game.”

 

“I see that, and raise you that yesterday morning, when Rich made everyone breakfast, he specifically came and woke me up first and was all cute and shit.” Jake challenged.

 

“Oh yeah? Well, a couple months ago, when we rode in the back of Mr. Heere’s car together to go eat, Jeremy pulled my hoodie sleeve into the middle and pushed his hand _inside the sleeve_ to hold my hand.” Michael crossed his arms, giving Jake a look to say he was ready for him to admit defeat.

 

“Rich fell asleep in Mr. Heere’s recliner the other night using my jacket as a blanket.” Jake countered, raising his eyebrows in defiance.

 

“Jeremy hung out with me and Jenna the other night, and while she was touching up my nails, he painted these blue dots on top.” Michael countered back, extending and twisting his arms as much as possible to prove it to Jake.

 

“Rich picked a flower from the sidewalk crack and kept it until he got home and saw me to give it to me, all because it reminded him of me.” Jake threw out.

 

“Chloe went to GameStop with me and Jer, and there was this kid, and Chloe went ‘Hey guys, it looks like your love child’ and Jeremy just scoffed and told her ‘ _That’s not what they’re gonna look like.’_ ” Michael was shouting at this point.

 

Jake found himself blushing at that, and he laughed and gave in to their small competition. “Alright, that killed me, I’m dead. You win.” He gave Michael a mini-bow with his hands.

 

“I’ll get Rich to avenge you.” Michael smirked.

 

\---

 

It was a little-known fact: Jake had nightmares.

 

Jake had creepily realistic, scary, believable nightmares. And because Jake was just the kind of person who would rather lie and pretend everything is peachy keen than having anyone worry about him, he didn’t tell anyone about them.

 

Well, Michael didn’t need to be _told_.

 

He was having a wonderful dream about Spider-Man, who was flirting with him non-stop and saying just the right things, and then took off his mask, revealing Jeremy underneath, and it… turned into something more steamy from there. He was in the middle of kissing at Spider-Jeremy’s (Spider-Jeremy? Jeremy-man? Spidey-Jer? Jer-boy?) neck and hearing him whimper in pleasure, when his surroundings changed. Instead of a dark rooftop, it was just _dark_ , and the heavy fabric surrounding him made him feel too warm, and he could still hear the whimpering, but something was different about it. Something was _wrong_ about it.

 

He sat up and rubbed his eyes, brain finally piecing together where he was, but not what the continued sound was. Michael felt a wave of anxiety come over him, as he worried if he was confusing dreams with reality, or was stuck in his own dreams, or a dream loop stuck forever on repeat, or –

 

The person in the bed across the room suddenly started kicking their legs around, their whimpering growing and turning into full-on cries.

 

 _Oh_.

 

Michael fumbled to turn on the lamp, put on his glasses, and untangle himself from his blankets. He went to Jake’s side as quickly as he could, grabbing the boy’s shoulder to both try and wake him and to stop him from kicking himself off his bed.

 

“Jake.” He said aloud. “Jake! Jake, it’s just a bad dream!” He kept shaking, getting worried when it wasn’t working. “Jake!” He yelled again, his shaking getting more intense.

 

Suddenly, Jake reached a hand over to grab his wrist, pull him into a weird hug around his midsection, and took them both down to the floor. Michael shouted in surprise and fell backwards, his head hitting one of the two beside tables with a resounding thud.

 

Jake finally woke at the noise and at Michael’s curse, blinking owlishly at him. “What happened?” He got out, panting and voice slurred.

 

“You were having a nightmare.” Michael answered, sitting up and gently pushing Jake off of him. He raised a hand to rub at the back of his head. “A really violent one, at that.”

 

Jake turned away from him and crossed his arms. “No, I wasn’t.”

 

Michael huffed a short laugh. “Tell that to my head.” When Jake didn’t answer back, he took a softer tone of voice, reaching a hand out to rest on Jake’s shoulder. “Hey, Jake, it’s okay to have nightmares. It’s kind of expected, with all that happened to all of us.”

 

Jake continued to look away, but Michael heard him sniffle.

 

“I wasn’t having a nightmare.” He tried again.

 

“Jake, really, we all get them. And like I said, it’s okay. We’ve all been through a lot, and some bad shit happened to you, and to Rich. It’s okay if you have nightmares about it, I promise.” Michael squeezed Jake’s shoulder, and hoped that he would finally stop keeping it bottled up.

 

“It… It was just so scary.” Jake admitted, his voice hoarse and wavering. “I keep watching him just sit there, on fire, dying. I…” Jake’s body wracked with a sob, and he moved to muffle it with his hand.

 

Michael scooted closer to him, moving his hand on the shoulder to an arm going across his back.

 

“It’s okay, Jake.” He soothed. “Rich is okay, he’s in the next room over. He’s safe, and so are you.”

 

Jake sobbed again, this time turning to look Michael in the eyes, which Michael wasn’t expecting.

 

“You’re in there, too, sometimes. I knew you were in the bathroom, and I didn’t do anything, and I thought… When I grabbed Rich and jumped out, I thought you were still trapped inside.” Once he started, he apparently couldn’t stop. “I wanted to push Rich out and try to get to you, but the… all the flames were so high that I couldn’t get to the bathroom, and I decided to jump out with Rich while we could, and I felt… The pain almost made me pass out right then, but I couldn’t stop watching the house burn as I kept thinking I’d left someone to _die_.” Jake paused as he sobbed again. “And, back then, that felt bad, and I was so thankful to learn you had already left, but now that you’re, you’re my brother, I…”

 

Michael’s hand had frozen in its spot, unsure of what to do. This was the first time he’d heard of this.

 

“Sometimes Jeremy’s up there too, burning up alongside Rich. Sometimes Chloe and Brooke are trapped in my parents’ bedroom. Sometimes Jenna pushes us out and stays inside.” He sobbed again. “Most of the time, it’s twisted memories, and I can’t get to Rich in time, or he’s dead before I even get to him, or I get trapped in the smoke and the flames, and-” He put his hand to his mouth again. “But sometimes, I see the family I finally have burning up in front of me, leaving me all alone all over again, and I love you guys too much to lo-” He broke down, bending over and hugging himself as he cried.

 

Michael sat frozen, arm hanging in the air where it was once at Jake’s back. He brought his fingers to his face and felt his own tears there, and decided on what he should do.

 

He moved to his knees, scooting until he was in front of Jake, and then pulled him up from his curled-up position until he was hugging him and crying into his shoulder.

 

“We’re okay. We’re all okay.” He rubbed at Jake’s back. “You’re okay, Rich is okay, I’m okay. We’re all okay. I swear.” He felt the lump in his throat grow as Jake kept crying into his shoulder, soaking the pac-man shirt he wore. “I’m hugging you, right now, and I’m fine.” At this, Jake’s grip tightened. His sobs grew louder, and he held Michael closer. “See? I’m right here, Jake. Everything’s alright, I promise you.”

 

They sat together for a few more minutes, Jake’s crying not easing up on him, and Michael wondered how long he’d held that in. He wished Jake would finally share with everyone else about these nightmares, as they happened almost as often as Rich’s did, and were just as serious. There was no way it wasn’t unhealthy for him to keep it so bottled up. Besides, there was no shame in it. No one was going to think any different of him. Michael knew every one of them had nightmares, himself included. They had, in fact, been through a lot. It was okay.

 

When Jake’s crying lulled into a quieter, hiccups and sniffling kind of crying, Michael suddenly wanted to just make him laugh again. He was good at that, and Jake didn’t deserve this harboring away he was putting himself through.

 

As Jake still hadn’t dared let Michael go, he felt the vibrations in his chest before he actually heard Michael’s voice and pieced together what was going on.

 

“It’s hard to look right, at you, baaaaby.” Michael’s tired voice sang softly, only the tiniest hint of laughter in it. Jake started laughing into his shoulder, just a small bit, but that still meant it was working.

 

“Thanks, Mike.” Jake whispered, muffled by the fabric.

 

“So call me maybe!” Michael continued.

 

\---

 

While their new house now had two bathrooms for the kids to use, there were still four kids per bathroom that needed to use either one. So, naturally, a quick game of rock-paper-scissors determined the order of showers in the boys’ bathroom every night, as per custom.

 

Jake had gotten lucky tonight, and won first shower. After him went Jeremy, then Rich, and unfortunately last, Michael.

 

He didn’t really think anything of it, really. It was just a shower, just normal bathroom time, nothing weird or off or special about it.

 

Not for him, anyways.

 

Jake was ~~chilling~~ hanging out on his bed, his hair only slightly still dripping onto his sheets while he scrolled through tumblr, laughing at whatever funny things Rich had reblogged. He liked a post just as Michael walked in, not looking like he’d dried off at all, a bit frantically searching for where he’d set his signature hoodie.

 

“How was your shower, bro?” Jake asked, using the term he’d heard Jeremy and Rich suddenly start constantly calling each other.

 

“Good. It, it was good.” Michael answered, but the answer lacked his normal… Michael-ness. Jake frowned to his phone for a split second, but blew it off as just him being tired.

 

“Jeremy didn’t use up all the hot water before you or Rich could use it again, did he?” Jake joked, smiling up in his direction and hoping for a laugh.

 

Michael was silent as he kept moving everything on his side of the room around, still frantically looking for his hoodie. Jake watched him, his eyes scrunched up in suspicion. Michael was wringing his hands and moving his head around everywhere, his back turned to Jake. Suddenly, he turned around to face him, and met his eyes. “Hey, have you seen my hoodie?”

 

Jake pondered it for a moment, trying to think back to if he’d seen Michael put it anywhere before his turn in the shower. He used this pause as an excuse to keep looking Michael over, and he started noticing how hard Michael was shivering. He kept it in his head and finally answered Michael with, “I thought you threw it on your bed? Are you sure it’s not just tangled in with the blankets?”

 

Michael grunted in annoyance and turned to check his blankets again, grabbing them from the corner of his bed to untangle them. “It’s not there! I already…” He paused as he pulled it away from his sheets, and then quickly pulled it on. “Thanks.” He muttered in Jake’s direction.

 

“No problem, man.” Jake smiled, and instantly dropped it when he looked up to see Michael get into his bed, fuzzy pajama pants on, his t-shirt and hoodie on, pulled his blanket around him tight, and grabbed one of his many pillow and held it against his chest.

 

“You cold, Mike?” He asked, cringing when the concern was obvious in his voice.

 

“The water… the water was freezing.” Michael answered, leaning over in his sitting up position so he could get more blanket around him. He was whispering, and as Jake kept watching him, he could see that Michael was still shivering while wrapped up. In fact, to Jake, it looked like Michael had started shivering harder.

 

“Are you okay, man?” Jake finally decided to ask.

 

Michael opened his mouth to answer, but nothing came out. He went to breathe in, and nothing happened. He felt the tears start falling down his face, and he mentally cursed himself as he knew what was starting to happen.

 

Panic attack.

 

Jake sat across the room, his phone now abandoned, staring at Michael. He kept yelling at himself in his head to get up, go over there, help your brother, but something kept him frozen in his spot. It wasn’t that he didn’t know what to do – he’d helped Rich through them a couple of times, he’d seen Michael and Jeremy helping each other, he’d even seen Michael help Christine out that night she became an official part of the family. He just, he wasn’t sure if the way he helped Rich would be the same way to help Michael. What if he did something wrong? Said the wrong thing? He didn’t know what to do to help, he wasn’t _Jeremy_.

 

Jeremy. He should probably get Jeremy.

 

From his bed, Michael’s voice broke as he got out a complete sob between his ragged gasps for air. Abandoning all fear with his phone, Jake ran over to him in an instant.

 

“Michael, is it okay if I touch you?” He asked.

 

Michael buried his face into the pillow he was clutching, and nodded his head.

 

Jake gently grabbed his arm and pulled it up until Michael’s hand rested on his chest. “Can you feel that?” He asked.

 

Michael nodded again.

 

“Okay, I need you to look at me. You’re not going to be able to breathe when you’re smothering yourself with a pillow.” Jake let out a small laugh, hoping it would inspire Michael to do the same. When Michael didn’t move, he tried again. “Please, Mike. Look at me.”

 

Michael finally raised his head to meet Jake’s eyes, and Jake felt so bad for him in that moment. His glasses were half fogged from breathing heavily into his pillow, his eyes behind them shone brightly, and Jake could see how they looked around almost desperately when he met them. Tears and some snot ran down his face, and he tried his best to sniffle it in, failing miserably when he couldn’t even take a full breath to do so. He let his mouth hang open, still raggedly gasping for any air he could manage.

 

“Breathe, Michael. You can do it. In,” He sucked in a breath and held it, “and out.” Michael’s first attempt didn’t go very well, and even without him being able to get words out Jake could tell it frustrated him. “You’re doing fine, bud, keep going. In… and out. In… and out.”

 

Eventually, Michael got to where he could manageably breathe again, and he dropped his hand from Jake’s heartbeat. They sat together in silence for a moment before Jake asked, “You good?”

 

Michael looked far from it, but he nodded anyway.

 

“You’re still shaking.” Jake pointed out.

 

“It’ll stop.” Michael told him.

 

Another small silence, and then, “You… wanna talk about it?”

 

“It’s _stupid_.” Michael seethed, looking down at the pillow he still held on to.

 

“If it gives you a panic attack, it’s not stupid.” Jake promised him.

 

“It’s bathtubs.” Michael sighed in annoyance with himself. “I have developed a _stupid_ , paranoid fear of _bathtubs_.”  

 

Jake didn’t say anything for a hot second, confused. “I… I understand, but how is that affecting you right now?” He asked, hoping not to offend Michael. The boys’ bathroom didn’t have a bathtub. Jake and Chloe had made sure at least one of the bathrooms in this house had one of those glass-door walk-in showers, the kind with the place to sit where the water could still hit you – they were normally for elderly people, but it helped Jake a lot more than he’d like to admit. Even if his legs weren’t affecting him during the day (which was never), it still gave him a place to completely relax.

 

Michael rolled his eyes and shoved his face into the pillow again. “I took my shower in the girls’ bathroom because Rich was taking too long.”

 

 _Oh_.

 

“I always just try and ignore it, because really, who’s afraid of _bathtubs_? But every time I see one, all I can think of is that night, and Jeremy abandoning me, and crying in the bathroom, and, and it’s not like I don’t forgive Jeremy, because I do, like that damn thing fucked him up and manipulated him and used him, and he’s apologized so much and meant it, and I love him and he loves me, but, but it still haunts me. Every bathtub I run into laughs at me, and I have to explain myself, because it’s not really a whole lot that you accidentally run into a bathtub, and someone would figure it out. So, I have to explain myself to you, when I don’t really, I don’t really deserve to complain about anything when you guys constantly have evil supercomputers in your brain yelling at you, and you all went through so much more shit than I did that it’s understandable if you just want me to _shut up_ , hell, I want me to shut up, and-”

 

“Michael!” Jake relied on grabbing his shoulder to get him to stop. He did, and looked back up at him again, and Jake saw that he’d started crying all over again. “Michael, I do not want you to shut up. Just because you weren’t squipped doesn’t mean shit didn’t happen to you, too. That – that would be like me saying I don’t deserve to talk about what my Squip tells me because Rich has had his for years.” Michael pursed his lips at that, moving his eyes to look away from Jake. “And being nervous around bathtubs is understandable, really. I mean, you don’t think Rich’s fear of candles is stupid, do you?”

 

Michael frowned. “No.”

 

“Or Jeremy’s fear of any soda that’s green?”

 

“No.”

 

“Or Mr. Reyes’ fear of tic tacs?”

 

“Mr. Reyes has a fear of tic tacs?”

 

“I saw him slap a box right out of Mr. Tracz’s hand.”

 

Michael looked back up at him, his eyes peering over the top of his glasses. “Really?”

 

“Yeah. Some things just remind us of other things, things we would rather not be reminded of, but that’s okay. It’s understandable.”

 

Michael kept his gaze. “Really?” He whispered again.

 

“I promise.” Jake whispered back.

 

Michael heaved a sigh, but this time, it felt more like he was lifting a weight from his shoulders. For the first time since he stepped into his shared bedroom, he found himself smiling.

 

“Thank you, Jake.” He told him.

 

“Never a problem, Mike. But I am totally making a new rule around here: you get first shower _every_ night.” He gave a light punch at Michael’s shoulder, and they both laughed together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OH ALSO I FINALLY GOT TO WATCH SPIDER-MAN RECENTLY AND, OH MY GOD Y'ALL, THE SPIDER-MAN AU IS PERFECTION


	10. Roommates (pt 3)

Most of everything you see would have you believe that having two teenage girls share a bedroom would end in complete and utter disaster.

 

For Chloe and Jenna, it was quite the opposite.

 

\---

 

Brooke was really popular on instagram.

 

Brooke, Chloe, Jenna, and Michael all shared a decent sized following on different social medias. Chloe had around one thousand tumblr followers (Michael claimed it was only because she was a simple ‘hipster blogger’), where Michael had about half the amount – he ran a well-known pop culture blog. Jenna had near-about three entire schools (students and teachers alike) following her twitter, gaining every last drop of juicy gossip Jenna decided to share.

 

But Brooke? Brooke had around 7,800 followers, and was trying hard for 8,000.

 

No one knew how she did it, and Mr. Heere worried a small bit that part of her following were a bunch of creepy older men liking the pictures of this pretty young girl, but Brooke made sure she posted a couple times a day. Mostly outfit-of-the-day pictures she would share to tumblr as well, cool shots of Chloe and the others that she snuck of them during the day, bathroom selfies, or pictures of the makeup and bathbomb collection from the girls’ bathroom. (The boys are jealous; they get told if they want to use it, they have to use the girls’ bathroom – except Michael, of course.)

 

Chloe was hiding under the covers, scrolling through Brooke’s feed, and liking every picture and leaving loving comments on each one, when a text scrolled at the top of her screen.

 

 **GossipGirl** : are you awake?

 

Chloe let out a real laugh ( _did you mean: **snort**?_ ) and answered aloud. “Yeah, Jen.” She pulled the covers off from over her and went to say something else, when she saw Jenna’s face.

 

Jenna was sat up in her bed, her covers around her shoulders, and her face wet with pouring down tears. Chloe could hear her sniffle, and the phone she held in her hand was shaking.

 

“Jenna, what’s wrong?” Chloe asked her. Jenna didn’t answer, her crying starting to get worse. She gagged out a sob and Chloe ran to join her. She surprised Jenna as she hopped in unannounced, wiggling until she was between Jenna and the wall. Looking down at the screen, she saw a picture of herself, Brooke, and her two adoptive sisters all huddled into a selfie in their bathroom. They all had homemade spa masks on, compliments via Brooke and Christine, and they were all in the middle of real and genuine laughter, only making the picture that much more beautiful. “It’s us.” Chloe stated.

 

“You’re all so beautiful.” Jenna laughed before sniffling again. “How did you guys get so beautiful?”

 

“ _We’re_ all so beautiful, you mean?” Chloe told her, lowering her head to where Jenna’s was, hoping Jenna would turn her face and meet her eyes.

 

“I’m not.” Jenna frowned, and then she was crying harder. “I’m so… I’m so _ugly_.” She rolled her eyes when Chloe gasped from beside her.

 

“Jenna, you are _not_ ugly.” She demanded. “Is… Is your Squip feeding you bullshit again?” Her voice lowered to a careful whisper.

 

“It’s not bullshit!” Jenna sobbed, zooming in on herself in the picture. “Look at me, I’m so… so gross!”

 

“Jenna, you’re not gross. You’re beautiful.” Chloe told her.

 

“You’re only saying that because you have to.” Jenna said harshly.

 

“And you’re only saying that because it’s what your Squip said.” Chloe challenged, continuing when Jenna didn’t speak up again. She took the phone and zoomed in on Jenna even more, until it was just her face. “You know what I see? I see someone who’s _happy_ , whose smile brightens up their face like there’s no tomorrow.”

 

“Chloe, stop.” Jenna brought her blankets up to her face, hiding her trembling lips.

 

“Someone whose eyes I’ve always loved, they’re so _blue_ , Jen. How can they be so… _blue_?” Chloe asked her, smiling as she gestured with her free hand.

 

“Brooke and Jake’s eyes are blue too. And Jeremy’s, partly.” Jenna told her.

 

“Yeah, but their all different kinds of blue. And yours are like… _blue_ blue, you know? Like, Jeremy’s is all cool with the blue and green, and Jake’s is all crystal-clear blue, and Brooke’s is like the sky blue, and yours are like, beautiful ocean blue.” Chloe explained.

 

“No, they’re not.” Jenna groaned into the blanket.

 

“And your hair! Is awesome! Like, it’s so thick and always so pretty! When you let Brooke style it, it only gets prettier!” Chloe continued.

 

“Stop it.” Jenna said again, smaller tears starting to fall.

 

“My favorite style was the one when we did Sunset Boulevard, and your hair was in those curls.” Chloe pressed on. “You looked like this beautiful vintage model, and that dress was _stun-ning_. You remember the boomerang we took of you twirling in it? You looked amazing!”

 

“No, I didn’t. You guys did. I can never look like you guys.” Jenna sighed.

 

“No, you can’t. You’re not supposed to. I don’t look like Brooke, Brooke doesn’t look like Christine, and Christine doesn’t look like you. And yet, we’re all _gorgeous_. Everyone is beautiful, Jen, and we all look different.” Chloe tried to look into her eyes again, but Jenna didn’t budge.

 

“You know that’s not what I meant.” Jenna told her, but she huffed a small laugh into the fabric.

 

“Okay, think of it this way: Flowers are pretty, right? But so are Christmas lights, and they look nothing alike.” Chloe smiled to the side of Jenna’s face, the smile widening when Jenna finally turned to completely face her.

 

“You stole that from tumblr,” Jenna smiled back, “you hipster.”

 

Chloe barked out and laugh and when Jenna moved to rest her head on her shoulder, Chloe scooched to make it lay more comfortably. “And you stole that from Michael.” She kept laughing. “He’s wrong, I am not a hipster blogger, I am a _fashion_ blogger.”

 

“Face it, Chlo, you’re a hipster blogger.” Jenna laughed with her, taking her phone back and looking down at her face once more.

 

Suddenly, Chloe was whispering to her. “Ask anyone in this house if you’re ugly, and you will get the same response – that you’re not. You are beautiful, Jenna Rolan, inside and out.” Jenna sighed and double-clicked the photo, smiling down and the now un-zoomed picture of her and her sisters. “And if the Squip ever tries to convince you otherwise, there’s some Red two doors down you can chug and shut them the hell up.”

 

“Thanks, Chlo.” Jenna laughed from her shoulder.

 

“Always.” Chloe told her.

 

\---

 

“Kill it!” Chloe screamed.

 

“No! Don’t kill it!”  Christine shouted from the doorway.

 

“Yeah, it didn’t do anything! It’s innocent!” Brooke joined in, siding with Christine. Both of them poked their heads in the smallest bit more just to make sure there was no murder going on.

 

“It’s creepy and crawly!” Jenna shouted back at them, using the wall to push the rolling chair she was standing on into the opposite corner of the room.

 

Mr. Heere grunted as he finally caught the intruder in the glass jar. “Girls, it’s just a spider. See?” He scooped the spider to where he was holding the jar normally, the critter sitting at the bottom.

 

Brooke and Christine finally ran into the room together, joining Mr. Heere in looking at the tiny spider, which was trying and failing to crawl up the sides and escape. “It’s cute!” Brooke doted.

 

“It is _not cute_ , Brooke. It is hideous and terrifying.” Chloe told her, a hand to her chest as she kept her back pressed against the wall. “Please, just _get it out_ , please!”

 

Christine huffed and took the jar from Mr. Heere, turning to look at Chloe with her free hand on her hip. “We’re going to release it!” She declared. “Just because you two are heartless, doesn’t mean we have to be.” She gave a curt nod, and her and Brooke were marching out of the bedroom and down the stairs. Mr. Heere watched them go and chuckled.

 

“Well, is that all you two needed?” He asked, already heading for the door himself.

 

“Yeah. Thanks, Dad.” Jenna answered, blushing as she got down from her chair. “Can you close the door, please?”

 

“Sure thing, sweetheart.” He smiled as he walked out, the door clicking closed behind him.

 

Chloe and Jenna shared a look of exhaustion after that whole experience, and Jenna made a fake fall to the ground. “I hate spiders, _so much_.” She shared.

 

“You’re telling me!” Chloe laughed, walking to resume her position of sitting on her bed. She leaned easily against the wall and grabbed her phone from the corner she had thrown it to. “They’re just so creepy and gross.” She added.

 

Jenna nodded hurriedly and sat up. “Yeah, I don’t care what Chrissie or Brooke say, spiders are _never to be trusted_.” She narrowed her eyes and looked around, as if she was checking the room for any more of the perpetrators. Chloe laughed and they lapsed into amicable silence, Jenna getting back into her chair to browse the web at her desk, and Chloe browsing herself from her bed.

 

“ _Heartless_.”

 

Chloe jumped at the hissing voice in her ear, thankful when Jenna didn’t notice. She turned her head the opposite way, refusing to look at her Squip in any way.

 

“Oh, _come on_ , Chloe. You know it’s true. You heard her admit it, and sweet little Brookelynn didn’t even try to deny it – _you’re heartless_.” The evil version of herself pixelated into sight where she was looking. Their blue-instead-of-green eyes glowed as parts of them constantly glitched out. “Not to mention, _so_ egotistical. I mean, who really has a Squip that looks like themselves?”

 

 _Leave me alone. All I have to do is go a couple rooms down to get something that’ll force you to shut up._ Chloe thought at them. She looked back down at her phone again, both focusing intensely on the screen and having no idea what was on her screen.

 

“ _Puh-lease_ ,” The Squip mocked her, “Like you’d really go ask _Jeremiah_ for some Mountain Dew Red, you can hardly look at the kid without feeling guilty.” They laughed and materialized next to her, poking their head in-between her screen and her face. “Even though you really should get some soon, I’m almost at 98% control again.” They smirked up at her.

 

 _You’re lying._ Chloe thought at them.

 

“ _Am I_?” They hissed. “I mean, you haven’t had any Red since… _ever_.  Maybe it wasn’t you showing off your heartlessness, _maybe_ it was _me_.” They sat up again beside her, grabbing and twirling a piece of her hair and laughing when tears started to pool in Chloe’s eyes. “Though, even if it _is_ me, no one would ever know. Whatever I’d do, everyone would assume it was just ‘normal, everyday, _bitchy_ Chloe Maria Valentine’. Face it, you’re _just as evil as I am_.”

 

“Shut the _fuck_ up!” Chloe yelled back.

 

Out loud.

 

Her Squip laughed manically before disappearing completely. Chloe brought her hand up to cover her mouth as the tears once pooling in her eyes began to fall. She squeezed her eyes shut and tried to cry as quietly as possible. She felt the bed dip beside her and snapped her eyes back open and looked over, thinking the Squip was back to taunt her yet again. When she saw it was only Jenna, looking at her with the most sympathy in her eyes she’d ever seen anyone giving her, she closed her eyes again and turned away.

 

“What did it say?” Jenna asked quietly.

 

Chloe didn’t say anything, more tears leaking out.

 

“Chloe, you can’t keep doing this. Please, if you’re not going to talk to anyone else about it, at least talk to me… Please.” Jenna’s hand was on her back, rubbing steadily back and forth, and Chloe let it come out.

 

“Do you think I’m heartless?” She asked, wiping her eyes on her sleeve and meeting Jenna’s eyes, watching her for any lies.

 

“What? No.” Jenna told her instantly, and Chloe almost cried again when she saw how genuinely Jenna meant it. Jenna’s lips made an o and she looked to her again. “If something like that sets the thing off, or just bothers you in general, just tell them about it. One, Christine definitely didn’t mean it, and two, all of us would be more than happy to avoid any words or anything that would make you uncomfortable.”

 

Chloe rolled her eyes at herself and chuckled sadly. “No, it’s not really… it’s not like I don’t like the words, it’s just… everyone always assumes the worst of me.”

 

Jenna frowned and instantly told her, “Chloe, no one assumed the worst of you.”

 

“Yes, they do!” Chloe half-yelled. “And for the most part, I get it, like, I’m a mean person, you know?”

 

“Chloe-” Jenna tried to interrupt.

 

“But I don’t mean to be! I mean, before all this happened, I… I was mean on purpose. I was a bully. But now that I have you guys I keep trying to fix myself and it always blows up in my face. And, and you guys don’t mean to do it, but it’s always – of _course_ it was Chloe who finished the milk. I bet _Chloe_ ’s going to hate this, the girl looks like her. I’m going to show everyone _but_ Chloe this cool art I made, she’ll only think it’s stupid, right? Chloe doesn’t like spiders, of course she wants it dead, she’s so _heartless_.” Chloe went on, letting it all out to Jenna.

 

“Chloe… I didn’t know stuff like that hurt you so much.” Jenna admitted, frowning to herself.

 

“No! No, Jenna, do _not_ do that. I _am_ that person, it’s just, I’m… I’m trying, you know? I understand it people assume it of me, but I just wish that someone thought I was a good person.” She refused to look back up at Jenna, instead fiddling with her hands.

 

“We know you’re a good person, Chloe. None of us just _think_ it, we know it. I mean, who intimidated Cheyenne Keeler into leaving Jeremy alone when he finally told us about her?” Jenna asked.

 

“I did. But-”

 

“And who is constantly going to the mall and bringing back stuff for everyone else because they ‘had to have it’?”

 

“I am. But Jenna-”

 

“And who helped Brooke with that pet shelter charity thing when they were terrified of, like, half the animals there?”

 

“I did.”

 

“And who listens to every single new musical Christine discovers first, because they _want to_ , not because they have to?”

 

“I do.”

 

“And who skipped an _entire day_ of classes to hang out in the auditorium with Mr. Reyes that day his evil brain computer was fucking with him really bad?”

 

“That one doesn’t count, Jen, that was all of us.” Chloe laughed sincerely, sniffling and wiping at her eyes again.

 

“Well, yeah, but you were there too.” Jenna laughed with her. “You were actually really helpful.”

 

Chloe met her eyes, fighting the smile growing on her face. “I… I was?” She asked.

 

“Definitely. We were all really glad you were there.” Jenna told her solidly.

 

Chloe let her smile grow until she was beaming at Jenna, and Jenna was beaming back.

 

“Thanks, Jen.” Chloe told her.

 

“Always.” Jenna promised.

 

\---

 

“Hey, Jenny.” Chloe greeted as she walked into her shared bedroom, laughing when Jenna scoffed at her.

 

“Don’t ever call me that again, Chloe.” Jenna told her. “I hate it.”

 

“You didn’t seem to hate it for all of eighth grade.” Chloe stuck her tongue out at her before plopping onto the floor beside her and looking over her shoulder. “What’re you doing?”

 

Jenna instantly clicked her phone screen off so Chloe couldn’t see. “Nothing. Nothing at all.” She answered simply, letting the phone and her hands fall to her lap.

 

Chloe found herself scowling, pushing away from Jenna. “I’m not going to judge you, if that’s what you think.” She said, a bit too harshly, and started to head for her bed.

 

“No, I didn’t… Sorry.” Jenna told her, meeting her eyes to get across her sincerity. “It’s just… it’s stupid. I didn’t think you’d judge me, I mean, I kinda did, but it’s not you, I… I think everyone’s gonna judge me, I mean, I’m judging me so hard right now, and-”

 

“What is it, then?” Chloe interrupted her.

 

“It’s… It’s this app. You make sand art and helps you feel better and calm down. It’s kind of… really soothing, in a weird way? I don’t know, it’s stupid…” Jenna trailed off, clicking her phone back on and staring down at the purple, pink, blue, and white lines patterned on the screen.

 

Chloe moved back to her spot beside Jenna, joining her in looking at the digital sand art. “That’s not stupid, it’s cool. I like the colors you’re using.” She pointed to the phone.

 

“Really?” Jenna asked, looking up at her hopefully.

 

“Yeah. It reminds me of the elementary school Brooke, Jake, and I went to – they had those fall festivals, you know? And they had those sand art bottles every year. I always went for the pretty moon bottles, and Brooke would always go for the star bottles, and we’d both get matching colors.” Chloe smiled at the memory. “But… what did you need to calm down from?”

 

Jenna looked away again, holding her finger down on the screen to start spreading the sand again, and Chloe watched, mesmerized by the way the sand changed colors so naturally. They sat like this for a minute until Jenna found the courage to talk about it.

 

“I just feel like no one trusts me.” Jenna said, quietly and simply, shrugging her shoulders and never looking away from her sand art.

 

“What?” Chloe asked, never breaking her gaze from the screen either, not wanting to make Jenna uncomfortable.

 

“I just… everyone always hides stuff from me because they assume I’m gonna, like, tweet it out to everyone.” Jenna explained.

 

“We don’t hide things from you, Jen, I promise.” Chloe told her. The sand on-screen started to get past Jenna’s finger, making it shoot straight up to the top layer instead of gently sprinkling down.

 

“When Jake and Rich finally got together, they hid it from me. I… I’ve never told them, but it was after school and we were starting rehearsal, and I walked into the auditorium, and they were early and didn’t hear me come in because I used the back door. They were sitting on the edge of the stage and cuddling and stuff, and I took a little picture because, _cute_ , right? But then they started talking. Rich was like ‘Let’s not tell them yet. I’m not ready for Jenna to spread it around the school, you know?’ and Jake was all like ‘Yeah, babe, I get it. We’ll wait, and she can announce it to the school when we’re ready for her to’.” Jenna felt a stray tear fall, and she quickly wiped it away. “And today, Michael told me this secret surprise thing he was doing for Jeremy, and he went through, like, ten minutes of making me _promise on my life_ that I would not share it with anyone. That even after he did it, I didn’t share it around the school.” She laughed deprecatingly and clicked the small circle in the corner, adding a touch of green to her colors. “And, I get it, I’m the gossip queen, and I wear that title _proudly_ , but… but if it’s something personal, you don’t have to tell me not to share it.”

 

“Jen-” Chloe started, only to be interrupted.

 

“Or if you asked me not to, I wouldn’t. Especially you guys – I would never gossip about you guys in the first place. And I would never out someone who wasn’t ready, I’m, I’m not that kind of person.” Jenna kept going. “I just wish you guys would trust me with stuff. Like, I’m not gonna force anything out of you guys, but I just want you to know that you can trust me with your shit.” She kept her finger held down on the screen, but the canvas was full of sand already. She had to blink through her tears to see it, and she almost threw her phone down when she did. She hadn’t meant to make Chloe listen to her like this.

 

“Jenna, we _do_ trust you. I’m sorry if we ever made you feel like we didn’t.” Chloe put a hand on her shoulder.

 

“You don’t have to apologize, I just… I just wanted you to know… you know?” Jenna laughed and tried to wipe away the tears with her jacket sleeve.

 

Chloe watched her in silence for a moment, thinking it over. Finally, she spoke again.

 

“I pick my nose when I go to the bathroom.” She said.

 

Jenna’s face scrunched up in confusion, and she looked over at Chloe with the look. “What?”

 

“I assume everyone does.” Chloe shrugged. “I really, really, _really_ want us to do Heathers, and I really, _really_ want to play Veronica.”

 

Jenna snorted this time, covering her mouth with her hand when she heard it. “You _what_? Everyone thinks you want the Heather Chandler role.”

 

“I know they do.” Chloe shrugged. “But we can keep that a secret between you and me.” She smiled at her.

 

“Chloe, you don’t have to-” Jenna tried.

 

“I have nine biological siblings, and I’ve only met them once.” Chloe stated.

 

“Wait, what? Your parents had _ten kids_?” Jenna asked her, astonished.

 

“Yep, ten kids even, and they bought mansions all around the country, along with nannies to raise us, and spread us all out. To be honest, if people think _I’m_ a bitch, they should meet my sister.” Chloe kept on, laughing at Jenna’s raised eyebrows. “The one time I met them all was this fancy party my parents forced us all to go to, and her first words upon meeting me were ‘I say, I didn’t expect you to be so… thick’.” Chloe wore a scowl on her face as she imitated a ‘fancy’ voice.

 

“No!” Jenna smacked her hand on the floor.

 

“Yes!” Chloe told her, copying the motion. “I know Italian.”

 

“What?!” Jenna laughed, moving so that she and Chloe were facing each other instead of being side-by-side. “You’ve never told anyone that!”

 

“I told Madeline Beauchamp in the second grade.” Chloe laughed. “That’s why she suddenly started the whole ‘look at me I’m so French!’ bullshit.”

 

“No way!” Jenna almost yelled, smiling at the imagined memory popping into her head of that whole conversation.

 

“Yes way. The nanny that – she basically raised me – was this really nice elderly Italian grandmother. She would bring her granddaughter to play with me sometimes, and they would speak it a lot, and I picked it up from them.” Chloe explained.

 

“Does that girl go to our school?” Jenna asked her.

 

“Nah, she goes to the other school, the one in town? But she is my facebook friend.” Chloe pulled out her own phone and opened the facebook app, finding the girl and showing a picture she had posted of the two of them from those very childhood days to Jenna. “That’s me, and that’s Alessandra.” She pointed the both of them out.

 

“Woah. You were a cute kid.” Jenna smiled down at them.

 

“I plan to ask Brooke to marry me on her 23rd birthday.” Chloe spoke confidently, and Jenna sputtered at her.

 

“ _What_?!” She asked, beaming at Chloe like she was an angel.

 

“Yeah, in middle school, we had this conversation our perfect partners, the perfect engagement rings, the perfect proposals, and our perfect weddings. Well, it became our perfect _wedding_ now, but still. She said she wanted to be asked on her 23rd birthday, because that’s already the year she thinks would be the best to get engaged, and she wants to be celebrating her birthday and her partner is making all special and grand – thus further proving that they are the one – and then she’s so distracted by the birthday festivities that she doesn’t expect the proposal.” Chloe went on, looking up at the ceiling and imaging herself doing all of that for her girlfriend.

 

“I have a condition on keeping that secret, Chlo.” Jenna interrupted her thoughts.

 

“What? What do you mean?” Chloe asked her.

 

“You _have_ to let me help you plan it out. Ooh! And choose the ring. Okay, I don’t have to help you choose, but I definitely want to see it! Can I help plan the wedding? Oh, _please_ tell me I can help plan the wedding!” Jenna rambled on excitedly.

 

“Slow down, Jen, no one’s getting married ‘till we’re all good and ready.” Chloe laughed.

 

“Okay, okay, but when the time comes, I’m there for you.” Jenna smiled at her, hands held together in pure enthusiasm.

 

“I know, Jenna. I trust you.” Chloe told her.

 

Jenna stopped to let that sink in, her hands falling back into her lap. Tears started to pool in her eyes again, but this time, they were happy ones.

 

“Another secret I’ll never tell is that you’re a big goof.” Jenna chided softly, laughing as she had to wipe at her eyes yet again.

 

“No one would believe you anyway.” Chloe shrugged, trying to make it sound as if she was cool and mysterious, but she couldn’t fight the grin on her face. “Now that you’re feeling better, can I have a turn on that sand app?”

 

Jenna laughed loudly and put the phone between them, turning it sideways. “There. Now we can both do it.” She told her, and they both stayed up late co-creating beautiful sand-art masterpieces.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can look on Katie Ladner's instagram [here](https://www.instagram.com/ktladner/?hl=en) to find the picture of her hair while she was actually in Sunset Blvd ([here!](https://www.instagram.com/p/BQT0bDXDP9x/?taken-by=ktladner&hl=en), [here!](https://www.instagram.com/p/BQUACSTjwRE/?taken-by=ktladner&hl=en), [here!](https://www.instagram.com/p/BS7SZflD19T/?taken-by=ktladner&hl=en), and [here!](https://www.instagram.com/p/BTcu6N3jn_l/?taken-by=ktladner&hl=en)) and that boomerang of her spinning her dress [here](https://www.instagram.com/p/BRRVc-8Dm-z/?taken-by=ktladner&hl=en)! The sand-art app mentioned is a real app, one that I personally use a lot, and it's available for apple phones [here](https://itunes.apple.com/us/app/thisissand/id569414555?mt=8), available for android phones [here](https://play.google.com/store/apps/details?id=air.com.beigeelephant.thisissand&hl=en), or just a website [here](https://thisissand.com/)!
> 
> So, does this count as an AU by now? Or is it more of a canon divergence? This makes me feel super old, but, "canon divergence" is like, a relatively new term, and I don't quite understand it? If someone could explain, I'd greatly appreciate it! Also, let me know about the first question! Ahaha okay, thank you guys again, bye now!


	11. Roommates (pt 4)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw: ableism, assholery

Just like foxholes in the war, you become very close to someone you share a bedroom with. Although, a foxhole is a hell of a lot smaller than Christine and Brooke’s bedroom, and there’s probably not as much violence as a warzone, and – okay, okay, this isn’t a great analogy, let’s just jump into it.

 

\---

 

“Chrissie, which one do you like better?” Brooke asked. She held up two different earrings against each side of her face, one a tiny daisy, and the other a cool, vintage style dangling dark blue tear-shaped stone, with smaller, lighter blue stones around it.

 

“Both look really nice!” Christine told her, giggling and walking over to really get a look at them both. “But, I like this blue one on you more. The daisies are still really cute too, though! Could I borrow them sometime?”

 

“Sure!” Brooke laughed, leaning over to grab the matching daisy and set it on the edge of her nightside table. “I’ll leave them right here, whenever you want to use them. Thanks, Christine!” She smiled at her, and Christine smiled right back.

 

“No problem, but really, you look pretty in just about anything, Brooke.” Christine complimented her, taking her new seat on the floor beside her bed (as the space not occupied by the bed’s owner was covered in multiple accessories and makeup items).

 

Brooke blushed at the compliments, moving the blue pair to a newly-starting pile and laughing. “Did Chloe pay you to say that?”

 

“No, no! I meant it!” Christine spoke hurriedly. “Like, your hair is really pretty and so are your eyes and I know you say your face is shaped weird sometimes but it’s really not, I really like it, you’re so pretty, and just about every color looks so nice on you, it’s so cool!”

 

Brooke’s smile grew. “Aww, thanks, Christine! You’re really pretty, too.”

 

“You think so?” Christine asked, her voice growing uncomfortable levels of quiet for Christine Canigula.

 

“What? Yeah, of course I do.” Brooke looked to her in confusion. “I mean, I don’t even _think_ so, I _know_ so. Along with everyone else.” She tried to inform her.

 

Christine started playing with a piece of her hair a small bit, starting to slightly tug every so often, and frowned. Brooke watched her with worry – this was a very un-Christine thing to do.

 

Christine bit her lip and glanced back up, jumping when she made eye contact with a very concerned-looking Brooke.

 

“Sorry! I didn’t mean to make you worry! Don’t look so worried!” Christine shouted, waving her hands in front of her as if to fan the concern away. “I was just… well, you see… I…” She trailed off, staring directly at one point on the leg of Brooke’s bed, trying to piece together how to say what she wanted to in her head.

 

“Do you not want to talk about it, Chrissie?” Brooke asked her quietly.

 

Christine vehemently shook her head. “I just don’t really think I’m all that pretty.” She blurted out, and kept going, unable to stop the outpour once it began. “Which, most of the time, I don’t really care that I’m not, like, conventionally pretty, because beauty isn’t real and is just this stupid standard that we hold ourselves to and it only makes us sad – but then Jake was all interested in me, and I thought I liked him, but, as you know now I am aroace, and so I don’t like him like that – I think I just liked the attention? – anyways I wasn’t really picked on like Michael and Jeremy so, like, no one was ever all ‘you’re ugly, Christine!’ but I was really alone? And that was sucky, and lonely. I did not like it. But, anyways, no one really ever saw me – I think that’s why I like Dear Evan Hansen so much? – and I never got asked out on dates or anything like that _ever_ , and I think I would have liked to have been asked, even if my answer would have been no? Which makes me sound kind of like a jerk. Oh! And then Jeremy asked me out, and even though that didn’t work out, and it ended friendly, and now he’s like a brother to me – which is a weird turn of events no one saw coming – he would still tell me how nice I looked and stuff and even though I know he was just saying it to be nice, and all, it still felt good. I would like to be pretty, I think… Bleh, that sounds _gross_ … You know what I mean?” She finished and looked back up at Brooke, who was waiting patiently for her to be done.

 

“I’m sorry you felt so alone, Chrissie.” Brooke started.

 

“No! Don’t apologize! I was just saying, you know it was a while ago now, and-” Christine stopped as Brooke held up a finger to kindly interject. She nodded and closed her mouth, motioning with her head that she was listening.

 

“I know that it was a while ago, but still. Being alone does suck, and I’m sorry that you were. I actually wish we had befriended each other sooner, that we had all been able to be friends naturally and not because of some evil… microchip.” Brooke exasperatedly threw her hands around as she had trouble thinking of what to call it (and refusing to call it ‘Squip’). “And that’s completely understandable. It doesn’t make you a jerk to like attention, everyone needs attention, Chrissie.” Christine nodded, and took a breath to start talking, but Brooke wasn’t finished. “But, you’re wrong. You _are_ pretty.”

 

Christine sucked in a breath through her nose and looked to the ground, not sure what to say.

 

“Really?” She finally settled on.

 

“Of course!” Brooke laughed. She moved the things on her bed around until they were all one big pile in the corner, before rolling onto her stomach and reaching out to Christine. She stopped her hand right in front of her face, waiting for Christine to nod before she started touching her. She gently brushed Christine’s hair behind her ear, reaching over to copy it on the other side. “You’re really pretty.” Brooke beamed at her, looking into her eyes. “Your eyes are _awesome_ , and your hair is _amazing_ , and your few little freckles are _tubular_ , and your nose is _radical_.” Brooke giggled along with Christine.

 

“You sound like Michael.” Christine told her.

 

“I don’t see how that’s a bad thing.” Brooke grinned at her.

 

“It’s not. Not at all.” Christine grinned back.

 

The two lapsed into comfortable, giggly silence, until Brooke spoke up again.

 

“You wanna do makeovers?”

 

“Sure!”

 

\---

 

“Ow! Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow.” Christine muttered.

 

“Sorry! Just one… second… there!” Brooke pulled the offending hairpin from where it had gotten stuck in Christine’s hair. “I have to brush it back out now.” She warned her friend.

 

“Oh, that’s fine, the only thing that hurt was that stupid pin.” Christine laughed, leaning back into Brooke’s brushing.

 

The two girls were currently sat cross-legged on Christine’s bed, Christine in front of Brooke. Brooke had wanted to play with someone’s hair again, and as everyone else was probably asleep by now, Christine had graciously accepted the styling invitation.

 

“What made you start to like styling and everything so much, anyway? You’re so good at it!” Christine asked, wincing up when the brush started tickling her neck a small bit, and relaxing again.

 

Brooke was silent for a long moment, and Christine could feel how she slowed down in her brush strokes. She was about to tell her to just forget it, let’s talk about something else, when Brooke answered her, speaking too quietly. “My mom and I used to play dress-up a lot.”

 

“Oh.” was all Christine said. She could almost feel Brooke roll her eyes, even if she couldn’t see her.

 

“No, I didn’t mean to make it sad, or anything.” Brooke shrugged her shoulders and set the brush down, starting to pull all of Christine’s hair back into a group. “It’s just something we did. I’m sure you have stuff you did with your grandma.” When Christine tensed up, she followed with “…sorry.”

 

This time, Christine had a moment before answering. “No, it’s okay. It’s good to talk about these things.” She took another moment. “She used to help me practice my dancing numbers.”

 

Brooke hummed. “That’s sweet.” She told her. “My dad...” She hesitated, weirdly noticing how off that sounded to her. “My… _biological_ dad goes all out for Christmas every year. We have… we _would_ have this really cool hot chocolate bar.”

 

“Hot chocolate bar?” Christine asked, her nose scrunching in confusion and interest.

 

“Yeah! It’s like, it’s where you buy a ton of different kinds of hot chocolates and different toppings, and you set it all up – sort of like a little shop – so everyone can try a bunch of different flavors and combinations. It’s really cool.” Brooke smiled fondly at her memories.

 

“We should do that this year.” Christine told her quietly.

 

“That’d be fun.” Brooke sighed as she smiled. “Wait, how are we even gonna celebrate this year? Jeremy and Mr. Heere are Jewish, they celebrate Hanukkah.” She reminded Christine, to which Christine hummed in thought.

 

“Maybe we can do, like those, there are other part-Jewish-part- … part-Christmas? Christmas is both, like, a Christian holiday and not a Christian holiday by now. Like, I celebrate Christmas and I don’t think I’m a Christian.” Christine chuckled to herself when she realized she had gotten off track. “Anyways, other families celebrate both, so maybe we should just google it, and ask Mr. Heere.” She suggested.

 

“Yeah, that sounds good. Let’s ask him soon, though, because now not only am I intrigued, but we should also plan ahead.” Brooke wrapped a tie around the section of Christine’s hair she was holding.

 

“Sounds like a plan!” Christine giggled.

 

They lapsed into comfortable silence again.

 

“Do you miss them?” Christine suddenly asked.

 

Brooke stopped altogether, quiet at her shock that she… she really didn’t know.

 

“I… think?” She tried. “I do _miss_ seeing them, they did raise me, right, they’re my family. But…”

 

“But you wouldn’t trade this one?” Christine supplemented.

 

Brooke groaned and laid her head on the square of Christine’s back. “Is that awful?” She asked.

 

“No. I think it seems pretty reasonable to not want to go back to a hostile environment, and want to stay with the loving family you created for yourself.” Christine shared, and Brooke started to wonder how she got so smart. “I feel bad, too. I _love_ my Grandmother, so much…” Christine blinked away the few tears that started to show. “But I don’t really want to go back and see her again.” She sniffled a small bit, and took courage from the feeling of Brooke comfortably touching her back. “I mean, that would mess up the timeline,” she paused to let Brooke snort, “But… but I think that family isn’t who you’re born with, it’s who you’d die for. That your family is who you choose it to be. And, and I _love_ all of you just as much as I do my grandmother, and…” She stopped as more tears started to fall.

 

“Aw, Chrissie, don’t be sad.” Brooke raised her head and replaced it with a soothing hand.

 

“I’m not sad,” Christine laughed wetly at herself, “I just have so much _love_ in my heart for you guys.” Abandoning the hair, she twirled around to face Brooke. “I wouldn’t trade you for the world, Brooke.” She promised her.

 

“We wouldn’t trade you either, Christine.” Brooke smiled back at her, starting to laugh at her own loving tears starting to fall.

 

“Oh, geez, look at us.” Christine sighed. “I’ll get some tissues.”

 

“Ooh! Let’s go sneak the ones from Chloe and Jen’s room – Chloe has these awesome, like, recycled-smelly-awesome kind of tissues!” Brooke whisper-yelled.

 

“Alright!” Christine giggled. “But you take the lead!”

 

\---

 

“ _Put it away. Now._ ” Evil Hillary Clinton scolded.

 

Christine didn’t look up from the stim toy, pinching parts of it together with her fingers. Her only response to it was to stick her tongue out in defiance.

 

“Stop being so _childish_.” The Squip scowled at her. “If anyone sees that, they are only going to laugh at you for playing with _toys_.”

 

Christine sighed, and spoke out loud her practiced speech. “It’s not a normal toy. It’s a stim toy. It-”

 

“ _A toy is a toy, Christine!_ ” It shouted at her, causing her to flinch.

 

She carried on anyway. “It helps me calm down, or focus, or feel better. And that’s okay.”

 

“ _No, it isn’t_.” Hillary said coldly.

 

“Besides, playing with toys doesn’t make you childish.” She told herself more than she told her Squip. “There’s no such thing as being childish – unless you _are_ a child.”

 

The Squip groaned and rolled their eyes at her.

 

“C. S. Lewis said ‘When I become an adult I put away childish things, including the fear of childishness and the desire to be very grown up.” Christine recited matter-of-factly.

 

“ _Stop making excuses, Christine_!” They yelled at her again.

 

Christine opened her mouth to yell right back at them, when the door started to swing open. Frantically, Christine moved to hide the stim toy behind her back, almost sitting on it, as Brooke walked into their bedroom and offered her a smile and a wave. “Hey, Chrissie!”

 

“H-Hey, Brooke!” Christine laughed awkwardly, cringing immediately afterwards.

 

“ _Smooth moves, idiot_.” Hillary 2.0 sneered.

 

Brooke stopped in her tracks, turning to go sit with Christine on the floor by the end of her bed instead of on her own bed. She plopped down and stared at her quizzically, only making Christine start fidgeting with the toy behind her back.

 

“ _Stop playing with it!_ ” The Squip screamed at her, and she flinched once more, her eyes darting to finally look at it.

 

Brooke never took her eyes off of Christine, watching her arms move as she messed with whatever was behind her back, her face red and nervous, her head shaking somewhat but her eyes never moving from where they stared fearfully at a spot in the door.

 

Except she wasn’t focused on the door.

 

 _Oh_.

 

“What do you have behind your back?” Brooke asked her calmly, hoping to distract her.

 

“Nothing!” Christine immediately yelled.

 

“ _Good girl_.” Squip grinned down at her and crossed their arms, one arm glitching out and disappearing completely while it did so. Christine snapped her head to look at it again, scared and frustrated tears starting to pool in her eyes.

 

“Whatever it’s saying isn’t true.” Brooke told her, reaching a hand out to rest it on Christine’s knee, and immediately retracting it and apologizing when Christine jumped.

 

“No, it’s okay, it’s okay, you just surprised me.” Christine told her quickly, and Brooke put her hand back, smiling in small relief when Christine took a deep breath.

 

“Is it telling you to hide whatever’s behind your back?” Brooke asked.

 

Christine’s hands fidgeted with the toy more, and she nodded.

 

“Don’t listen to them. Show me.” Brooke told her calmly. She didn’t want it to sound like a command, more like a gentle suggestion.

 

Christine looked from Evil Hillary to Brooke, taking a deep breath and mentally saying _Fuck you._ to the Squip before pulling it back into her lap.

 

“What is it?” Brooke asked, looking it over but not touching it, as Christine was still scrunching and balling pieces up in her hands.

 

“It’s… it’s a stim toy.” Christine sighed. Her hands wouldn’t stop shaking, even if they had something to release the pressure on, and Christine wanted to cry again at the intensity bubbling inside her.

 

“Oh! Like your spinner ring?” Brooke asked.

 

Christine stopped altogether, hands still shaking, and met Brooke’s eyes. “You… you know about my spinner ring?”

 

“I mean, yeah. You wear it all the time.” Brooke offered her a kind and genuine smile, and Christine could feel the pressure start to deflate in her just a little bit, like a balloon. “You don’t really notice how much you spin it, but it’s cute when you do. Is… why would your Squip tell you to hide this from me?”

 

“It tells me to hide it from everyone.” Christine admitted. “It says no one likes me when I act like a ‘child’, and that normal people ‘don’t play with toys’.” She imitated the metallic voice of her Squip.

 

“ _Fuck_ Chillary.” Brooke spoke angrily. “I want to know what homophobic, ableist asshole designed these damn things, and I want to kick their butt!”

 

Christine sat in silence, almost amazed at how angry Brooke seemed. She appreciated it, and agreed, but something nagged at her.

 

“Chillary?” She asked, a smile fighting its way onto her face.

 

Brooke let out a loud laugh, caught off guard. “Yeah. You know, because yours looks like Hillary, and it’s constantly nagging about being ‘more chill’, and we needed a good way to distinguish between actual Hillary Clinton and Evil Chillary.” She explained.

 

“I like it.” Christine chuckled.

 

“ _I hate it._ ” Chillary seethed.

 

“And Chillary hates it, so we definitely have to use it now.” Christine let out another laugh, feeling the intensity leak out the last bit, and she felt okay again.

 

Suddenly, Brooke stood and wiped off her shirt before holding her hand out to help Christine up.

 

“What?” Christine asked, staring at Brooke’s hand in confusion.

 

“Come on, we have a fully stocked mini fridge of Red for a reason. Let’s go get some.” Brooke told her.

 

Christine took the offered hand with a smile, getting up of the floor and following Brooke out the door to head to the bedroom of one Rich and Jeremy, leaving the scowling, digitally dissipating form of Chillary behind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Me? Projecting onto Christine? Never.)
> 
> I have an idea to share with y'all. *Clears throat* Now, I really, really like the stepbrothers AU. (Probably a little too much). Since I like it so much, I've been thinking of having a go at trying to write it. That sounded all well and good, but then I thought, what if the stepbrothers AU happened after "Dad's Heere"?! Just, could you imagine, Mr. Heere is like "Hey kids guess what ANOTHER KID!... and also a loving step-mom!" and Ms. Hansen just loves them all and loves how loving Mr. Heere is with them. And Evan is all WOAH WENT FROM ZERO SIBLINGS TO EIGHT OF THEM. WHEN THEY FINALLY GET TOGETHER HE HAS TO SHARE A ROOM WITH TWO OTHER KIDS??! SERIOUSLY, MOM?! But they all bond and stuff, and then Connor (because I love Connor, y'all, and I want him to be redeemed, and I couldn't not do "everyone lives/nobody dies") gets all "Hey Evan ;)" and the others are instantly "hey punk :) you chatting up our brother :)) punk? :))))" and just - ahhh. Also though, would that be, like, an AU of an AU? That's hecka confusing. Annnnnnyways, just wanted to share that brainstorm with you guys, I might just officially dive off the deep end and write it! As always, thank you guys SO! MUCH! for the kudos and the lovely, lovely comments (like y'all are seriously the. best. I am #blessed)! Have a wonderful day!  
> Edit: The story has been started!! It's called "Mom's Heere?"


	12. We Got Banned from Claire's

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's back! So sorry for the late update, quick explanation [here!](http://pastelsuperhero.tumblr.com/post/163913451873/if-theres-anyone-visiting-my-tumblr-or-following) To make up for lost time, this chapter is a long one - 6.2k. Strap yourselves in.
> 
> Thank you all so, so, so much. You guys make me truly happy.

_Groooooowl_.

 

“Uh, speaking of!” Jake laughed lightly, patting his stomach. From where he sat beside him, Jeremy cringed away from Jake and the rest of the group there with them, hoping they wouldn’t notice.

 

He knew what they wanted.

 

And he wanted it, too. Really.

 

But he couldn’t.

 

“You know, I’m kinda hungry too!” Jenna spoke up, the fake cheeriness in her voice making it start to squeak by the end. “Do you guys want to go get something to eat?”

 

“Yes! Totally! But, uh…” Christine trailed off, looking away and into space for a hot second before snapping back into the conversation. “I’m really, _really_ craving something we all haven’t had in a while!”

 

Jeremy’s cringe worsened, and he was pretty sure that by this point, he was more curling in on himself than anything else.

 

“You don’t say!” Jake cheered uncharacteristically. “I was thinking the same thing!” He set his controller onto the floor as to not be distracted from their new attempt at Jeremy. “But where haven’t we been in a while?”

 

The three of them paused in counted silence, and Jeremy could feel how practiced the whole thing was.

 

“How about the mall?” Christine asked. Jeremy cringed again at how small her voice sounded, and he knew she felt guilty about trying to make him go back, and that she (and everyone else) just wanted the best for him, and for him to be comfortable at the mall again – because he _had_ expressed an interest in going back to the mall with them. It wasn’t like there was much else to do in their small town, and the mall was a popular go-to for almost every teenager to hang out. But…

 

But every time he thought about sitting in the food court, he remembered Michael leaving him. Every time he imagined the Payless, he remembered the warnings the scary stockboy tried to give him. Every time he even considered finding the courage to go back, he remembered the white-hot searing pain that made him double over onto the floor as he was first squipped, and how _no one helped him_. Jake’s voice rang through his head, repeating “ _The freaks freakin’ out_!”, Jenna’s not too far away, and he’s sure she’s recording him, everyone around him starts to bleed together, all chanting and whispering about how terrible he is, how ugly, how much they all hate him, and he can’t find it in himself to disagree, and –

 

He just… He just can’t.

 

“Yeah, the mall sounds awesome! We could get some Sbarro’s, my favorite – my treat!” Jake says, too cheerfully, and all three pairs of eyes turn to Jeremy. “What do you say, Jer?” He asks, softening his voice.

 

“It sounds… like fun,” Jeremy starts, and they all cheer triumphantly before he can finish. “But…” He turns, looking as much away from them as he can.

 

Suddenly, he feels Christine’s small hand on his arm. He doesn’t pull away, and that gives her the confidence to completely squeeze between him and Jake, and take a seat there. Jenna is now directly in front of him, he can see her hand reach out to touch him as she pulls in her legs, only to let it hover over his knee before pulling away and letting it sit in her lap.

 

“Jeremy, we know… I mean, we don’t know what it was like. We can’t pretend that, with our limited knowledge and experience with our own… evil supercomputers, that we do understand all that happened to you that night. And – trust me on this – we all feel super guilty about not helping you when we should have,” Christine starts, but Jeremy suddenly turns back to meet her eyes, and though his are glassy with tears, he doesn’t let them fall.

 

“No, no, don’t… Don’t do that to yourselves. You couldn’t have known.” He demanded.

 

“I… Jeremy, I watched you fall to the ground _screaming_ , and all I did was… I called-” Jake tried, only for Jeremy to interrupt him as well.

 

“Jake, you didn’t know. And, it was before all of this,” Jeremy gestured around at their now-twice-as-big living room, “and you’ve changed. You just can’t do that to yourself, man.”

 

“And you can?” Jenna spoke up.

 

He didn’t try to deny it.

 

Christine cleared her throat to stop the silence, and continued what she was trying to say at the beginning. “But you can’t avoid it for the rest of your life, Jeremy. It’s not healthy. And don’t you miss the food court, at least a little bit?” She nudged him with her elbow.

 

“Yeah, I do.” He admitted. They all held their breaths in the silence that followed, watching Jeremy expectantly. When he looked up again, he met each of their eyes. “You guys will be there with me?” He asked.

 

They all shook their heads, Christine a little too much. “Wouldn’t ever think about leaving you alone.” She added.

 

“And if it… if it gets too much, we can leave?” He asked.

 

“If anything starts to be too much, for any of us, we can high-tail it out and try again some other time.” Jenna answered.

 

Another beat of silence, and Jeremy asked another question, his voice lowering with uneeded embarrassment. “Can we… can we take some Red? Just in case.”

 

Jake reached over to give him one of those fake-shoulder-punches, waiting until Jeremy looked directly at him again to tell him “Definitely. I’ll get some right now, even!” He quickly hopped to his feet, starting for the stairs to grab some Red from the mini-fridge in Jeremy’s bedroom, when he paused to turn back to them. “You meant you’re good to try now, right?” He asked, just to be sure.

 

It was Jeremy’s turn to nod, and he did so, before adding “Can you… if Michael sees you… can you not tell him?”

 

Jake let his body turn back around completely, joining Christine and Jenna in their shocked and dumbfounded stares at their adoptive brother.

 

“Why?” Jenna finally got out.

 

“Well, I just – I just dragged Michael with me, that night, and it was the start of what made me turn into a huge asshole who abandoned him, and I don’t think he has any desire to go back as much as I don’t, and I just…” Jeremy’s hands went to the air, and he moved them around in small circles as he didn’t know how to put it. “I just don’t want to put him through any more... stuff.” He finished, cringing yet again at how un-eloquent he was.

 

To his surprise, Jake’s voice softened. “Yeah, man. I won’t tell any of the others, and we’ll go with just us. Less crowded, right?” He offered.

 

Jeremy finally cracked a small smile, and let his hands fall back down. “Yeah.”

 

Jake smiled back, and then turned and bound up the stairs to get the bottles of Red and the girl’s bags.

 

\---

 

“You’re going to have to tell him sometime.” Chloe was reprimanding him.

 

Michael rolled his eyes, turning to Rich for backup. He apparently turned too much, as Brooke pulled on his hand a small bit to tell him to quit moving around so much.

 

“I don’t understand how Jenna can sit here and do this for you every week. You can hardly sit still, Mike.” Brooke added a chuckle, hoping that he knew she didn’t mean any harm by her words.

 

“Jenna’s just a master at nail-painting, that’s why.” Michael chuckled with her. “She could handle the toughest customer.”

 

“You _are_ the toughest costumer.” Chloe smirked, and almost immediately apologized when Michael made a fake, exaggerated frown. He instantly turned it back into a huge grin when he saw her take a breath.

 

“He’s changing the subject.” Rich spoke up quietly, and Michael snapped to look at him again, this time his eyes narrowed at the betrayal.

 

“I thought you were on my side, Rich.” He said, mock-cold.

 

Rich only rolled his eyes before he scoot closer to Chloe, who laughed and got out that he looked like a dog rubbing it’s butt on the floor. Once he got re-situated, he spoke again. “I am on your side, Michael. We all are. We want you to be happy and healthy, and _healthy_ is overcoming your fear of the mall.”

 

“ _And_ telling Jeremy about what happened to _you_ that night.” Chloe added.

 

Michael frowned at his and Brooke’s hands. He had thought about telling Jeremy, but… but he just couldn’t.

 

“Jer’s been through enough.” He finally said. “He has his own fear of the mall for his own reasons, and I shouldn’t add on to that by saying – _Hey, not only were you painfully Squipped and laughed at that night, but you also abandoned me, and made me wait for your ass in the food court until the mall closed and they kicked me out and I had a panic attack ‘cause I thought you’d been kidnapped or something, because, you know, you wouldn’t answer your phone, either, which was just the beginning of you abandoning me for months._ ” Michael took a long breath in, and held it, before blowing it out. His shoulders relaxed once more.

 

“If you keep bottling it up, it’s gonna eat you away.” Brooke added, frowning at his nails.

 

“Et tu, Brooke?” Michael frowned.

 

“That’s what happened until you told him about Halloween.” She nearly whispered, and Michael froze. She looked up to meet his eyes, and he instantly found himself feeling guilty at how worried she looked. “I don’t want that to happen again. You got really worked up last time.”

 

“He still beats himself up about… about that night.” Michael tore himself away from her gaze, instead looking down at the scars on his arms that were visible with his rolled-up hoodie sleeves. He’d almost done it, that night. Three years recovery, almost down the drain…

 

“And he always has us to remind him not to.” Chloe interrupted his thoughts. “So do you, Michael. We’re all here for each other.” She offered Brooke a smile in return to the “aww” Brooke let out, and continued. “So if he starts getting lost in his own thoughts again, we’ll help him through. But you need help, too.”

 

Michael chewed at his cheek, letting himself think about it.

 

“Okay,” He finally spoke, breathing out a puff of air before he continued, “maybe we can try the mall first, and then work towards telling Jeremy _about_ the mall.” He peeked back up at them, and was met with only supportive smiles.

 

“That sounds great, Mike!” Chloe clapped her hands a small bit, a couple of the rings she wore clinking together in a sound Michael enjoyed. “When do you want to go?” She asked.

 

“We could go now!” Brooke piped up. “We haven’t been in so long, I haven’t gotten to go back to the Rainforest Café! Can we pleeeeeeease go there? We could all get a bite to eat, on me! Please, Michael?”

 

Well, shit. Michael wasn’t going to say no to her.

 

“Alright, alright. I’m hungry too.” Michael admitted, laughing when the others cheered in unison.

 

They all stood up around him, Rich holding out a hand to help him up. “Let’s go, Michael!”

 

\---

 

“Jeremy? Are you doing okay?”

 

“ _Such a slob_.” Jeremy heard someone whisper.

 

“Jeremy?”

 

“ _Terrible_.” Someone else chided.

 

“Hey, man…”

 

“ _Everything about you **sucks**_!” They were starting to yell.

 

“Talk to me.” Jeremy suddenly spoke, looking to them desperately.

 

“About what?” Jenna asked him.

 

“Anything. Just talk _over them_.” He told her. She took a quick second to look down at his shaking shoulders, his hands wringing at his sides, and his untouched pizza.

 

“Eat.” She reminded, glancing at the pizza to prompt him. When his shaking hands raised it to take a bite, Christine started going her usual 90-miles-a-miute, and Jeremy could never be more thankful.

 

“So, I don’t really want to be doing ‘Taming of the Shrew’, but I also kind of don’t want to tell Mr. Reyes? Because, like, why wouldn’t I like any and every play or musical we do, but Taming of the Shrew just… rubs me the wrong way. Maybe I’d be fine with it if we changed it up and did something with zombies again.” They all chuckle. Jeremy takes a small gulp of the Red one of them had slid to him. And she continues.

 

He doesn’t really keep listening, and he knows she knows that, but he’s thankful she’s producing any noise to block out the other. She’s beaming at him, and they’re each sat around the small cafeteria table, and he’s safe.

 

He breathes.

 

He notices Jenna watching him, and offers her a smile. He hears Jake promise Christine that he’ll talk to Mr. Reyes for her, and he’ll totally make it sound like it’s all him, and definitely not her talking through him. He takes another bite of pizza, appreciating how it finally felt good and tasty and not making him sick to his stomach.

 

His smile started to grow.

 

“ _Terrible_.”

 

It only faltered slightly.

 

\---

 

 “You good, Mike?” Rich asked.

 

Michael, surprised with himself, smiled. “Yeah, actually. I felt a little nervous at first, but… you guys are really helping.”

 

“Good!” Brooke chirped, accidentally raising her hands, making her and Chloe’s laced-together fingers bounce on the table, and they both winced a little. “Sorry.” She grinned.

 

“It’s okay, Cookie.” Chloe laughed, watching her with heart-eyes.

 

Michael and Rich unanimously made gagging sounds, pretending to double over and gaining the attention of the teenage employee walking past. After quickly shaking their heads that they were alright, and earning an annoyed glare from the employee, all four of them started laughing.

 

A conversation started about where the four of them think the others might’ve gone, as they weren’t home when they left, and hadn’t told them or left a note. From there, the conversation turned to how uncomfortable Christine has seemed about their current play, and how they could get to the bottom of it and help her.

 

“She probably just doesn’t like the play.” Rich offered. When Chloe scoffed at the idea, Michael pretended not to notice the small hurt look in Rich’s face.

 

“Please, Christine enjoys any and every play.” Chloe told him. “Maybe she didn’t get the part she wanted?”

 

“That would make sense – you know how dedicated she gets to the specific character she wants to play.” Brooke started to reason, only for Michael to start making a sound of disagreement.

 

“Eh, if she wanted a different part, Mr. Reyes would give it to her.” He reasoned. He was trying to give Rich more credit, but he didn’t think Rich had heard him as he stared down at his half-eaten food out of the corner of Michael’s eye. “She’s our theatre MVP, we’d all let her have whichever part she wanted.”

 

“Maybe she was just too anxious to ask to switch?” Brooke tried.

 

“No, not when it comes to theatre. Christine is a go-getter on the stage, and we all know it. I think Rich is right.” He nudged at Rich’s side, and something inside him felt a pang when Rich’s head came back up with genuine surprise on his face, before he wiped it away with a over-enthusiastic grin and started saying something else.

 

 _Too much like Jeremy_. His mind thought.

 

He hadn’t noticed he had zoned out until Rich was moving more than usual beside him, creating more empty air between them. When he heard Rich’s voice tell him “Bathroom break!” in his haze, he shot out a hand to grab at him.

 

All three of them stopped, trying to make their stares not so… glaring. Michael had a hand loosely around Rich’s wrist, and Rich was halfway out of the booth. When he saw how scared Michael suddenly looked, he didn’t make a move to keep going.

 

“Michael?” Chloe whispered to him in concern. “Are you-”

 

Michael suddenly snapped back into reality, letting go of Rich as if he was burn- wrong choice of words. He met each of their eyes before looking down at his lap in embarrassment. “Just… hurry back. Please.” When Rich stayed an extra few seconds just to make sure he was alright, he mistook it for Rich wondering what the _hell_ was wrong with him, and he added a small “Sorry.”

 

“I’ll be _right_ back, Mike.” Rich promised, and took of running to the bathroom, causing the same teenage employee to send another annoyed glance their way. This time, Michael wasn’t laughing.

 

“Are you okay?” Brooke asked him.

 

He moved his hands to his lap, and began nervously picking at the polish on his nails. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, held it, and released.

 

And repeated.

 

Once more.

 

He finally raised his head back up, a small but unwavering smile on his face. “I’m good now. Sorry, I just…” He unconsciously bit at his lip. “I was thinking that you guys were going to leave me alone.” He admitted.

 

“You’re never alone, Mike. Not with us – all of us.” Chloe told him, and his smile brightened as she used the nickname. Jer called him ‘Mikey’, and everyone else called him ‘Mike’, but Chloe only did so in very touching times – only making it more important.

 

“Thanks, Chlo.” He told her, and they shared a smile.

 

“I’m back!” Rich collapsed into the booth beside Michael, his breath slightly heavy. “That was the fastest I’ve ever pissed in my life!”

 

The four of them burst into another round of laughter, and more conversation broke out from there.

 

Watching Rich start talking about something he apparently really enjoyed, Michael noticed he didn’t seem as… sad as before. Maybe sad wasn’t the word. Whatever the mix of sad, lonely, and anxious was. Whatever it was, Rich didn’t seem that way anymore.

 

Maybe everything really would be okay.

 

\---

 

“Hey Jeremy, would you want to try some shopping?” Christine asked him.

 

Jeremy tried his hardest not to freeze again, which only made his movements choppy and awkward, which still gave off how uncomfortable the idea made him. He tried to smile, but Christine was frowning.

 

“We don’t have to! It was just a suggestion, really! You’ve done so _awesome_ today, we could totally go home and-” She started to ramble. Jeremy raised an only slightly-shaking finger to interject.

 

“I’m… good with shopping.” He tried.

 

“Jeremy.” Jenna’s voice sounded flat with her disbelief.

 

“Really! Can we just, maybe avoid the shoe stores and the Aeropostale?” He asked timidly, and a real, relieved smile broke out when the other three nodded.

 

“I know a store that has lots of cool things _and_ I don’t think anything inside will make you nervous.” Christine leaned into the table, her hands unconsciously waving in excitement.

 

“Where’s that?” Jake asked her.

 

“Claire’s!” Her hands started hitting the table as they moved.

 

“Wouldn’t it look a bit weird for us to go into a Claire’s?” Jeremy asked the table.

 

And then wished he hadn’t.

 

Because now they were _definitely_ going to Claire’s.

 

All three of his friends had instantly stood from their seats, a determined look on each of their faces. Christine had even put her hands on her hips, and Jeremy idly thought she looked like a superhero.

 

“We’re going to Claire’s!” Jenna declared. “Come on, Jeremy!” They all laughed together as they broke the façade, grabbing their trash and pushing in their chairs before heading off.

 

\---

 

“Let’s do some shopping!” Brooke squeaked.

 

Chloe and Rich’s eyes turned to Michael expectantly. “Michael, you okay for shopping?” Chloe asked him.

 

He thought it over in his head, making sure to quickly wipe away any nail polish chips from his hoodie now before he answered, “Yeah, that sounds fun.”

 

They all stood and pushed their chairs in, making sure they had paid before walking out. The teens stood together at the entrance, quickly moving aside for other people coming in and out. “So, where do you guys want to go first?” Brooke asked excitedly, holding her hands together.

 

“Brooke, maybe we shouldn’t-” Rich started, but Brooke interrupted him, too blind from her enthusiasm to notice.

 

“We could do Banana Republic, or Forever 21, or – they have a Claire’s! Or Aeropost- _nope_ , Gap, Hollister, Old Navy, Urban Outfitters – Mike, I _know_ you like Urban Outfitters! Oooh, _maybe_ -”

 

“How ‘bout the Claire’s?!” Michael interrupted her, his hands out as if he were trying to tame a wild animal. “That seems safe, right? They… they have some cute things? I could always get a new pair of earrings.” He giggled as he looked over the three of them.

 

“They do have cute things, even if they’re marketed for little girls.” Chloe admits, shrugging her shoulders and smirking at Brooke.

 

“A glittery Rich is a happy Rich.” Rich adds solemnly, only making Michael giggle more. Rich almost cracked his serious façade, but brought it back when he raised a hand in mock salute, and used the other to gesture outward. “Lead the way, sir!” He let himself smirk when Michael only giggled more and saluted back to him.

 

“Will do!” He said, and they all formed a line behind him as they began to fake-march towards the mall Claire’s.

 

\---

 

Once they finally reach their destination, the four break up into two separate groups of two – Chloe and Brooke go near the back of the store to look at the clearance sections for some deals, and Michael and Rich stay at the front to check out the earrings stands and see if any actually did catch their eyes.

 

Rich picked a pair of lime green ones from the stand, and quickly pulled it out of the card and tried it in his ear. He went to ask Michael what he thought, but his eyes never met Michael’s when he paused at the breath on his ear.

 

“Hey, I lost my teddy bear. Could you sleep with me instead?” Someone whispered, rather smoothly, into his ear.

 

Rich swirled around, dropping the earrings in the process. As he was turning, he shouted “I have a _boyfriend_!” He felt a little humiliated at the stranger’s outright asking, and his face was blushing maddeningly, so he decided in that split second to return the favor.

 

By slapping the offender.

 

A loud _smack!_ sounded throughout the small store, and the person went toppling. They frantically grabbed at a stand, and the horror in their face grew as they realized it was coming down with them. Halfway down, they reached for the another stand that was opposite to the first by mistake, and it came down too. It was like watching a horrible, cringey version of dominos. One stand fell, the whisperer fell on top of it, and the other stand fell about halfway onto the perp and halfway onto the floor.

 

Rich was huffing, but also smirking, down at the boy who’d just dared to come on to him so strongly. He hoped this red-jacket wearing _bro_ knew not to mess with him again!

 

Wait… Red jacket…

 

“Jake?!” Rich sputtered. “Oh, my god, Jake! Oh, god, Jake, are you okay?” Rich moved all around the crash site, not sure where to go to help. Jake started laughing so hard they later counted it as a _guffaw_ , trying to hide his wincing from Rich.

 

“I am so sorry, babe, I thought – you can’t do that!” Rich was yelling at him, the stress starting to wear off from the laughter.

 

Everyone started to realize they were all in the store, and were shouting such to each other across it. They all finally decided to move closer, try and help Jake and Rich at the mess they’d created.

 

Except for two.

 

Michael and Jeremy stood stock still, frozen in the spot, deep brown eyes glued to sea-green ones. They stared at each other in embarrassing horror, and then confusion, and maybe a slight hint of anger? Neither were sure. Michael made the first move.

 

“Jeremy?” He asked, stepping around the others and the stand-debris to meet his boyfriend where he stood. “What are you doing here?”

 

“I was going to ask you the same thing, Michael.” Jeremy admitted.

 

They each looked to their friends, who were now trying to explain to the store employee what had just happened, while also trying to promise that they’d help clean it all up. The employee looked quite annoyed with them, and was starting to snap back at them, and Michael turned back to Jeremy and sighed.

 

“Share a soda and talk things over?” He offered.

 

Jeremy grabbed his hand, and they nearly melted into each other.

 

“Let’s go – sneak escape.” Jeremy nodded gravely.

 

Silently thanking the others for accidentally causing such a ruckus, the two slipped right out while everyone was arguing over the mess and spilled items. They high-tailed it back to the cafeteria, Michael ordered them a soda with two straws, and they grabbed a table.

 

“So…” Jeremy started, elongating the ‘o’.

 

“I’m sorry we didn’t tell you, but you guys weren’t there! And I know that you don’t like coming here anymore, and I get that! I didn’t want to pressure you into coming back! Truth be told, I didn’t want to come back that much either, but Brooke – and, and Chloe, and Rich! They all convinced me that I ‘needed to come back, face my fear!’ and all, and we weren’t trying to exclude you, Jer Bear, _please_ don’t think we were – I, I _love_ you, Miah, and I-” Michael was running his hands through his hair by this point, finally stopping and shutting up when Jeremy leaned over and grabbed his wrist.

 

“I’m not mad, Mikey. Why would I be mad?” He frowned at the assumption, moving his and Michael’s now held-together hands to where he could see the nails. “You chipped at the polish again.” He pointed out, and then looked back up to meet his boyfriend’s eyes again.

 

“You’re… not mad?” Michael asked him.

 

“Seriously, why would I be mad? If anything, I thought _you_ would be mad with _me_.” Jeremy pointed out.

 

“But, why would I be mad?” Michael asked, his eyebrows scrunching up in such a cute confused way that it made Jeremy giggle the slightest bit.

 

“Exactly.” Jeremy told him. He rest his gaze on their hands, and Michael watched him, feeling the familiar blush creeping onto his cheeks. He had to strain to hear when Jeremy started to mumble. “I just… Jake, Jenna, and Christine did the same to me. They’ve been bugging me for a really long time about coming back here, and I had told them I wanted to, I just…”

 

Michael let his thumb start grazing the back of Jeremy’s hand. Jeremy took a deep breath.

 

“I just couldn’t. Every time I thought about it, I could only remember the bad things. Like how that stockboy tried to warn me, but I didn’t listen,” Michael wanted to interject and tell him that it wasn’t like the stockboy really warned them about what the Squip would actually do, but he bit his tongue and let Jeremy finish. “or… I ran into Jake and Christine, on their date, when it took effect. It connected to all the… I guess the nerves in my body? It _hurt_. It felt like… It felt like the shocks, but a hundred times worse.” Michael continued to bite his tongue, barely holding back the need to erase all of his love’s pain with soothing and encouraging words. “And Jake and Christine, at the time… they just watched me? I fell to the ground in pain, Mikey, and Jake just yelled ‘The freak’s freakin’ out!’ and I glanced up and saw Jenna, too, behind them, and she had her phone, and I’m pretty sure she was recording me? And I just wanted someone to stop it, to help me….” He paused to sniff, giving Michael a small, watery smile and a glance up to let him know he was alright. “And I don’t want to bring it up, because I know how much guilt sucks, but today, all I can hear is the people around me whispering about how much they all hate me, even when I _know_ it was just the Squip talking. And then, I ran into Chloe and Brooke, and then you left, and I was all alone, and-”

 

“Wait, wait, wait – _wait_. I never left.” Michael told him, making sure to meet his eyes. They both stared at each other in confusion for a moment.

 

“You…” Jeremy trailed off, his eyes fixating on Michael’s chest.

 

“I came back to our table after I got the Crystal Pepsi, and I waited. After an hour, I tried to reach you on your phone, but you wouldn’t answer. I stayed here until the mall closed and they kicked me out.” Michael let out a small laugh. “I drank the whole case while waiting, and when they kicked me out, I waited some more outside. I got so worked up, I had another panic attack and threw up all my Pepsi investment.” He tried to lighten the mood. He instantly felt bad when Jeremy’s horrified expression met him.

 

“It told me you left...” Jeremy whispered. “It said… It told me you… Michael, I’m so sorry.” To his horror, he started to cry, right there, in the middle of the mall cafeteria.

 

“Hey, no no no no no no, Jer, please don’t cry.” Michael pleaded, reaching and leaning over the table to wipe at Jeremy’s tears. “It lied to you, Jeremy. It manipulated you. You thought I’d abandoned you.” He tried.

 

“It was just the start of-”

 

“ _No_ , Jer. You know how it happened. It _lied_ to you and _manipulated_ you, and even if you made some mistakes on your own, what happened to you – to all of us, was _not your fault_.” Jeremy sniffed again, and Michael wiped away another tear with his thumb. When Jeremy sucked in a particularly rough breath, Michael steadied his own breathing as an example for him to follow. “Can you repeat that for me, Miah?” He asked him, his hand starting to rub at Jeremy’s face just to offer comfort. “What happened was not your fault.”

 

Jeremy hiccupped, but brought his hand to hold Michael’s arm. “What – What happened was not… my fault.”

 

The two shared loving smiles.

 

“Mahal kita, Michael.” Jeremy whispered.

 

Michael’s blush deepened like mad, and he couldn’t stop the joyous giggle starting to pour from his lips. “Mahal din kita, Jeremy.” He whispered back.

 

“Aww! Lovebirds!” Christine’s voice suddenly yelled, making the boys jump and instantly separate.

 

“What happened back there?” Michael asked them, looking to them as they each pulled up a chair to the now-overshared table but reaching his hand back to hold his boyfriend’s again. He hissed when he saw Jake turn the slightest to show off his brand new giant just-starting-to-bloom bruise on his arm from where the stand had fell on him. Jeremy, after giving him a sympathetic look, scanned the table for where Jake’s trademark jacket was since it wasn’t on him, and saw that Rich had donned it for the time being.

 

“I am still so, so sorry, babe, I thought-” Rich started.

 

Jake, since he was close enough anyways with how tightly together they were all sitting around the table only meant for four, leaned over to half-hug half-sit in Rich’s lap, sushing him. “Stop apologizing, Richie. I told you, it’s okay. Defending your honor is badass.” Rich simply crumpled into the touch, a smile growing on his face (and if Michael caught a glimpse of the feelings he swore Rich was wearing earlier in the day, only starting to melt away now that he was in the arms of his significant other, he didn’t mention it then).

 

Smiling at the loving display and turning to look at the girls, Jeremy asked again, “No, really, _what happened_ back there? I’m looking at whatever was on the wall for a minute and then there’s a ton of crashing, and when I turn back, we’ve destroyed half the store?”

 

Everyone laughed, and Jenna decided to be the one to tell the story.

 

“Basically, Jake snuck up behind Rich and whispered some kind of seductive shit in his ear, to which Rich yelled that he had a boyfriend, and turned around to slap the _shit_ out of him, which sent Jake falling, and he tried to grab something, but it all came down with him instead.” Jeremy and Michael let out a unanimous ‘ooh’, and she continued. “And then while you two decided to make a break for it, the cashier started yelling at us for,” Jenna raised her hands to make air quotes, “’destorying mall property’. Which, by the way, nothing was broken! We picked it all up and put it back, not a damn thing broke.”

 

“We would have bought anything we broke, she didn’t have to be so snarky about it!” Brooke added, and Jeremy almost laughed at how her hands portrayed her attitude.

 

“Yeah! I apologized so many times that even I got tired of hearing it, and she was still a bitch about it!” Rich shared.

 

“Don’t you guys think you’re being a little bit-” Michael started, but Jake interrupted with a raised finger on his good arm.

 

“She started ranting about how ‘the gays are always causing shit in here’.” He supplied.

 

“Ooooh.” Jeremy and Michael chorused once again.

 

“Yeah, so we stole these.” Jenna leaned over to Chloe’s purse, and pulled out a few miscellaneous items that had belonged on the shelves.

 

“Wait, you guys _stole_ that stuff?!” Christine gawked. “Just because the cashier was mean doesn’t mean we should steal from the company! Take it back!”

 

“We can’t, none of us are allowed back.” Chloe reminded her.

 

Christine sat for a moment, and thought it over. To everyone’s surprise, she looked away and smirked. “Well, I guess if we’re not allowed back, there’s just no way we could return it. Shucks.” She snickered.

 

“Are you guys okay?” Rich asked through the laughter, his eyes looking suddenly very tired. “You were crying, Jeremy.”

 

“Yeah, I was, but Michael and I talked it through.” Jeremy explained to them, raising their clasped hands to his face once more.

 

“What about you, Rich? You seem kinda down today. Wanna talk about it?” Michael countered.

 

All eyes moved to Rich, and when he realized that with Jake’s arms slung around him he _literally_ couldn’t get out of this, he shrugged and frowned into Jake’s side. “I just, with all this talk about the mall, it makes me think of how – _just like_ with everything else that happened – everyone’s fear of this place is all my fault.”

 

All eyes met as everyone looked around at each other, and suddenly the air felt heavier.

 

“That’s not true, Rich.” Jeremy told him.

 

“If I hadn’t told you about the damn thing, you two wouldn’t have even been here that night, and everything that went down… wouldn’t have went down.” Rich explained himself, and Jake’s good arm started rubbing small circles into his back.

 

“Rich, it told you to do that. I _just_ got finished telling Jeremy this, and I’m not lying to either of you – it _lied_ to you, it _manipulated_ you, and it _made_ you do things that you wouldn’t do. What happened _wasn’t_ your fault.” Michael tried to soothe him.

 

“Rich, Brooke and I saw Jeremy and… and we tried to convince him to ditch Michael to go for a ride with us.” Chloe told them, meeting Michael’s eyes with tears in her own. “We’re really sorry, Mike, we-” She wiped at her eyes, Michael whispering gently for her to _shush_ , and shaking his head at her. She knew what he was telling her.

 

“We watched Jeremy get Squipped.” Christine’s voice was small, and she lacked her usual excited movements – instead, she was rubbing the cloth on her sleeve between her fingers quietly. “He was… screaming, and we didn’t do anything.”

 

“Chrissie, don’t-” Jeremy started.

 

“I called him a freak instead of helping him.” Jake’s muffled voice told them, and they saw how he’d had to turn his face into Rich’s stomach just to share with them. Rich was running fingers through his hair.

 

“I recorded it.” Jenna whispered.

 

They all sat together in silence, letting everything sink in and settle.

 

“Listen, we’ve been through it with everything else, the mall is just another part of it we didn’t acknowledge before.” Jeremy started, and confidentially pressed on when everyone looked to him. “We all have to remember that nothing that happened was in our direct control, and that we can’t play these ‘if I had done something different’ games with ourselves. We all forgive each other, right? We have to forgive ourselves, too.”

 

Another beat of silence, and everyone collectively breathed.

 

“Damn Jer, you should just become a motivational speaker. Or a life coach, or something.” Rich chuckled, the tiredness not leaving completely, but definitely starting to dissipate.

 

“I love you guys.” Jeremy answered instead of a comeback.

 

After a minute of stunned silence, everyone around the table nodded, and repeated the affirmation.

 

Maybe they weren’t completely okay, and maybe they wouldn’t ever be. But for now, they were okay with that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I never saw anyone mention anything about what the mall must've been like for everyone post-musical, or what really must've happened to Michael that night, so here we are.
> 
> I LOOKED UP ACTUAL STUFF ABOUT THE MENLO PARK MALL, Y'ALL. THIS SHIT IS FACTUALLY ACCURATE. YOU WANNA KNOW THE ONE THING THEY DON'T ACTUALLY HAVE AT THE MALL, REFERENCED BY NAME IN THE MUSICAL? SBARRO'S.
> 
> The specific mention of Michael liking Urban Outfitters is a reference to the fact that that's where the infamous "creeps" shirt came from! [Here](http://theunidentifiedfangirl.tumblr.com/post/162061380011/i-cant-believe-michael-mell-shops-at-urban) is the post showing so!

**Author's Note:**

> if anyone cares (again, literally no one) my tumblr is pastelsuperhero!


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